


Wicked Games

by statuscrawler



Category: The Clique Series - Lisi Harrison
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Clairington, Cunnilingus, Drug Use, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Internalized Misogyny, Kempsie, Loss of Virginity, Massington - Freeform, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, References to Addiction, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slut Shaming, Smut, Teen Angst, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Virginity, cruel intentions - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:12:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1312750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statuscrawler/pseuds/statuscrawler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derrick Harrington, playboy. Massie Block, queen bitch. Claire Lyons, new girl. The posh lifestyle of the rich and privileged in Westchester affords the luxury of games for the teens. Only this time, the stakes are infinitely higher. / "You're saying you want to play?" A slow smirk. "You're on." /AU/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. bring your love, baby; i could bring my shame

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** wicked games  
>  **Genres:** drama, drama, drama.  
>  **Main Pairings:** claire/derrick, massie/derrick  
>  **Side Pairings:** hints of massie/kemp. implied derrick/everyone lol  
>  **Warnings:** language, language, and excess language. mature themes [in various forms; innuendo, dirty talk, propositions, mentions and references to sex, etc. etc.] mentions of drug and substance use. dark!massington, as in pseudo-incest. yes, you read that right. incest. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. life-ruining rich kids with nothing better to do but ruin people's lives.  
>  **Overall Rating:** t for now. like only now, after this chapter, i might have to bump it up to M.  
>  **Credit & Disclaimer:** i do not own the clique, obvi.  
>  **Summary:** Derrick Harrington, playboy. Massie Block, queen bitch. Claire Lyons, new girl. The posh lifestyle of the rich and privileged in Westchester affords the luxury of games for the teens. Only this time, the stakes are infinitely higher. / "You're saying you want to play?" A slow smirk. "You're on." /AU/  
>  **Author's Note:** think… the clique with _cruel intentions_ and _gossip girl_ characterizations thrown in there too for the fun of it.

**bring your love baby; i could bring my shame**

.

 _derrick_ ;

Derrick Harrington drummed his fingers against the wheel of his one true love. He coasted the winding roads of Westchester with a sharp turn and a smirk. While he would definitely miss the beauty, the parties, and the girls of the French Riviera, there was no place like home, as Dorothy would say. It was nice to be back on the familiar roads, among the familiar green, with the familiar shops and houses and people. And most importantly, being home meant being reunited with his baby.

His Ferrari. 599 GTB Fiorano. Featuring a V12 engine with a max of 620 PS and the most powerful road car of all time.

At that thought, he tapped his dashboard in another loving gesture at the happy purring of three hundred thousand dollars' worth of Italian engineering at its finest.

But not only that, home also offered his favorite form of entertainment.

Derrick screeched past the gates of his estate and parked his car haphazardly on the driveway. Slamming his car door shut, he tossed his keys into the air, catching it and tapping the house code in. He hated waiting for the help to answer the door.

The slamming of the front door echoed in the empty foyer and announced his arrival with a bang. No one stirred.

Not surprising, the estate spanned over fifteen hundred square feet, but it was noon and he knew just where for find her at this time. Derrick strolled past the hall and kitchen and out the backdoors into his sprawling backyard. The pool house was past his manicured soccer field so Derrick shed his sports blazer carelessly.

He spotted them by the pool. Sunbathing. _Nice_.

Derrick approached, trailing his eyes from the tips of their painted toes, up their shapely legs, their flat stomachs, to their tanned breasts. Nothing he hadn't seen before and tame compared to the girls in the French Riviera, but Derrick never refused what was offered.

He stopped in front of their lounge chairs, blocking their sun.

"Ladies," he grinned.

Alicia snapped her head up and groaned. She turned to Massie. "Your prodigal brother returns."

"Nice to see you too, Rivera," Derrick smiled. "Get your snatch checked out after Spain?"

Alicia slapped her sunhat on with a huff and scowled under her shade.

They weren't _really_ siblings. It made him roll his eyes every time anyone referenced them as related. They were siblings through marriage. Kendra Block had married Charles Harrington two months after her divorce to William Block. It had been quite the scandal.

Especially when Charles had been considered reclusive in the forms of dating for years until Kendra had swept in, caught his eye, and snagged him. They had a 'whirlwind romance' where Kendra had swept onto the estate, redone, remodeled, expanded the whole place, and threw the wedding of the century right on the very field he had just strolled past. She and her daughter Massie moved in immediately after the honeymoon and around the time he and Massie were starting their sophomore year of high school.

Plus, they 'dated' in middle school and that shit would be fucked up.

His _step_ sister, Massie, rolled over onto her back and propped her head up at him. She slid her sunglasses down her hair and over her face and pursed her lips. "What do you want, Harrington?"

Hmm, Massie always was touchy around mixed company.

He shrugged carelessly, knocked her legs off her chaise, and plopped down next to her. "It's my homecoming; I thought you'd be warmer now that we've finally reunited."

Massie tilted her head and Derrick could just picture her rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. "How was Monaco?"

"Grand. I can hardly remember any of it," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. It had been a wild ride. Massie smirked at his remark and scooted up her chaise, tucking her long legs under her. "How was Paris?"

"Beautiful," Massie sighed, gazing off into the distance. She turned back to him at his raised brow though. "And more poignant than your crusade to fuck a girl in every port landing of the coast."

Derrick gave her a roguish grin. It was just like Massie to play innocent.

"At least I have a positive attitude about my habits, Block," he reclined back, leaning on his arms. He watched her for a moment. "I heard you and Kemp broke up," he stated flippantly, stealing her Long Island ice tea from the table beside her. Mmm, heavy on the rum, just like he liked it.

"Old news," Massie said, examining her nails, but Derrick could tell that she was _actually_ bothered. It was in the sudden stiffening of her posture and the bite in the tone of her voice. He refrained from smirking.

"Yeah?" he asked with raised brows. "Because I think I distinctly remember you saying 'He just might be the one.'"

Alicia gave a tinkling laugh and Massie scowled at her friend. Alicia was in the firm belief that you wouldn't be finding 'the one' in high school… or in Westchester. She took pride in only fucking foreign exchange students.

"Well, he got boring," Massie said nonchalantly. Derrick watched her pick at her manicure and examine her nails for the fiftieth time today probably.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you weren't working your way through all my friends."

Massie kicked out at him with her bare feet to show her appreciation for that comment. He caught her foot before she could cause damage. Massie huffed and shoved the glasses off her face so he could see her glare.

Derrick let it drop. He'd get the details from Kemp later.

Keeping her feet propped up against his lap, Massie leaned back against her chaise and stretched out, raising her arms above her head and arching her back. Derrick knew from the twinkle in her eye that he had been caught staring at the curve of her chest. Massie left her leg propped on his lap, and to anyone else eye's was just getting comfortable, but Derrick knew better.

Massie liked to play. He bit down on his devilish smile. Derrick had missed this during vacation.

She propped her free leg up near her chest and tilted her head to the side, relaxing back into her chaise and soaking up the sun. All it did was mold her bikini bottoms to her crotch.

"Word came from the parental units," he told her. Partly to watch her drop her leg back down instantly at the mention and partly to remind her of the wickedness of what she was doing. As much as Derrick liked to play too, he also liked to remind Massie how sick they were. It was a sure fire way to rattle her and also a sure fire way to remind _himself_ not to touch her. Derrick pried his sight from between her legs to her amber eyes to watch them darken at his words.

"Oh? How _is_ your drug-addicted asshole of a father?" she snapped.

"He was great when I met up with him on the coast of Nice," he grinned. "How's your gold-digging bitch of a mother?"

"She was a mess when we met up in Paris," Massie told him, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "She's convinced your father is fucking the help on the yacht." She paused and eyed at him. " _Is_ he?"

"Probably," he shrugged carelessly. "But word is they're extending their vacation. They won't be back until well into the school year. Sounds like they made up."

"Lovely," Massie breathed.

"So, looks like it'll be just us," Derrick leered.

Massie smirked coolly. "So it does," she slipped her sunglasses back over her eyes, but Derrick caught them twinkling. He clapped her legs and stood, draining the rest of her glass.

"Ladies," he bowed mockingly and headed out the way he came.

"If he wasn't so hot, he'd be really fucking annoying," Alicia said to Massie, her voice carrying in the serenity of their secluded property.

Massie didn't bother with a response. Derrick left with a smirk.

.

 _massie_ ;

Once Derrick left their vicinity, Massie tried to relaxed back into her lounge chaise, but it was impossible. Derrick being back had also brought back memories of her disastrous relationship with Kemp.

She still didn't understand what had happened.

She had been into him, and was still into him at the start of summer. Did he not know how rare that was? She was _Massie Block_ , so why did he dump _her_?

Feigning nonchalance, she snuck a glance at her friend, wondering if Alicia had the details, if _she_ knew the reason. She was the queen of gossip at Westchester Prep and must have heard something, anything _,_ to assuage her sudden feelings of inadequacy, the fear that she wasn't desirable anymore.

But Massie refused to be the one to ask. She would wait until Alicia was the one to crack and come to her for details. Massie forced herself to shut her eyes, even though she was close to bursting.

She didn't have to wait long though. Alicia turned to her after only a moment of silence.

" _So_ , when are you going to dish?" her sultry friend asked with a grin, rolling on her stomach and facing her, propping her head up her hand.

Massie removed her sunglasses slowly and assumed the same position as Alicia, hand under chin, swinging her bare legs in the summer sun. "Do you really want to know?"

" _Yes_ ," Alicia emphasized with laugh. She slapped her hand on the chaise cushions.

"I told you," Massie tried to deflect, plucking at a loose thread in the matching decorative pillows, "He got boring."

"Right…" Alicia replied, tapping her red nails rhythmically. Her skeptical tone belied how much she believed _that_. She rolled her eyes. "Because I, like Derrick, also remember you gushing about him. What happened?"

Massie bit her lip, wondering if she should give up the game. Was it worth looking clueless to find out the truth?

Yes, yes it was.

"I—" she swallowed bitterly, knowing it was insecurity she was tasting and her pride she was swallowing. "I don't _know_. Everything was fine and then I left for Paris and… He stopped calling and when I came back, he told me it was _over_."

Massie cast her eyes to Alicia, scrutinizing her friend for any judgment.

"Just like that?" Alicia asked, raising her eyebrows. Massie wondered if there was blame in her tone. She hadn't done anything wrong, she was sure of it. They were _fine_ before Paris. Had sex in the backseat of his limo before he dropped her off at the airport. And she _knew_ he had been satisfied. So, what the fuck was his problem? She had never been dumped before. Was this what it felt like? Wondering and obsessing and analyzing what and where and why and how things went wrong?

Massie nodded, biting her lip and flooding her mouth with the taste of cherry lipgloss. She kept her eyes on Alicia for any flashes of glee or pity or insight. Alicia didn't seem to be feeling any of that; the only thing her expression showed was her surprise. It had to be an act.

She reminded herself that this was why she was confiding in Alicia. Alicia would have something, would know something. She busied herself pouring more Long Island iced tea into her cup and taking a sip to feign disinterest. She hand shook slightly as she placed her glass daintily back on the table. She wondered if Alicia noticed.

She hated this. The not knowing was killing her, had been eating her up for weeks.

She cracked and glanced up first. "Have you… heard anything?"

"I might have," Alicia replied slowly. "But I don't know how reliable the source is."

"Tell me," Massie gasped out before she could stop herself.

Alicia smiled at her. Was that pity? Massie felt bitterness settle in the pit of her stomach, burning like acid, at her desperation. She had to know. That way her insecurity would stop burning her up. That was she could _fix_ what was wrong. That was she could make sure this never happened again.

"Well…" Alicia swung her legs to the ground and sat up, leaning towards Massie. Massie waited a few seconds before doing the same. She refrained from leaning in too. That would have been too eager. Alicia could smell weakness, but Massie was a master at games. She could hide it. She was sure her face wasn't giving anything away. "I was in Spain all summer, so I haven't seen for myself, but…"

Massie didn't voice her question. She cocked a brow at Alicia.

"Kemp was spotted around town trailing after another girl."

Massie felt relief so sudden she was lightheaded. It wasn't a default or defect that she had. It wasn't that their last ride had turned him off. But then Alicia's words hit her and her relief dissolved into rage, white hot fury shooting through her veins like a hit of cocaine. Her head shot up.

"Wait, _what_?"

It was Alicia's turn to raise her eyebrows at Massie's sudden fury. Massie sucked in a breath.

Who was it? Who could it be? Who stayed home during vacation? Who had come back early? Kristen? Olivia? A complete LBR?

Who had stolen her boyfriend from right under her?

"Who?" she bit out.

"A new girl," Alicia told her with relish, the words bursting out of her with glee. Massie felt her fingertips tingling at the anger that was coursing through her. Knowing Alicia was scrutinizing her closely; she brought her hand up and examined her nails. Alicia was a gossip fiend, she'd tell all.

But Massie wasn't expecting the next words.

"She moved here two months ago. From _Orlando, Florida_ ," Alicia told her, wicked glee lighting up her face. Massie felt her breathing speed up, knowing she was close to losing it. "Her mother got that coveted job at Kori Gedman's mother's law firm? You remember, right?"

Massie nodded, mentally urging Alicia to continue.

"She's our age. She's starting school with us at Westchester Prep next week."

"Name?"

" _Claire Lyons_."

Massie shut her eyes, mentally recuperating. Some no name nobody had stolen her boyfriend right from under her, in the span of one month. If Kemp had been seen by people, 'trailing after her', that meant that word had already spread. She had ruined Massie's reputation. She could just picture what everyone would say about Kemp, about the new girl, about Massie, when school started back up and the new girl was spotted with Kemp's favor.

The taste in her mouth now was defeat.

"Do you want to know what's even better?" Alicia asked, interrupting Massie's silence.

'Even better' meant even worse for Massie, she just knew it. She opened her eyes and nodded at her friend.

"Word is, is that she hasn't even _put out_ yet," Alicia's grin was wicked now. She had purposely left this part out until now. Massie blinked in surprise. She didn't even have to ask Alicia to clarify, she plowed right on. "Claire Lyons is _celibate_. The pinnacle of chastity and innocence. She's saving herself for 'the one'."

Alicia cackled like it was the funniest thing ever. And to her, it probably was. Alicia didn't believe in true love. Her goal in life was to fuck her way through it. Her latest side goal was to do every single exchange student that set foot in Westchester Prep. So far, she was meeting her goal, 7 for 7.

But for Massie, her anger was slowly dissipating. Because _this_ was her silver lining. Massie didn't bury down her hurt and embarrassment and defeat at the thought of Kemp dumping her for someone who refused to even give it up. Kemp hadn't even had a taste and he had _left_ her for this new girl. She couldn't even blame it on the girl's dismal abilities in bed; she had stolen him away with her presence alone. No, instead, Massie enveloped herself in the feeling of being cast aside like last season's Prada bag, the feeling of being used up and discarded, and _embraced_ it.

She would need to remember this feeling for when she destroyed Claire Lyons.

And now she had been given ammunition. She would ruin Claire; her reputation, her morals, her life.

And she had just the person to help her.

Derrick.

.

 


	2. bring the drugs, baby; i could bring my pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** UPDATED RATING AND WARNINGS. this is dirty stuff, you guys. you have been warned. all derrick in this one. claire's coming up. sorry it's slow-going. i need to get the plot rolling.

**bring the drugs, baby; i could bring my pain**

.

 _derrick_ ;

Derrick woke up groggy. Snatching his phone from his bedside table and checking the time, he let out a groan. Noon. Jesus Christ, it was felt earlier. Must have been the amount of scotch he consumed last night. Combined with jet lag, it must have hit harder than he thought.

Rolling off his bed, he snatched a t-shirt off the floor and started his day.

Stomping down the stairs, Derrick heard Massie's bored tone drifting from the kitchen. There was a lot of mmhmming and humming going on so it can't be any of her friends. Parental units, most likely. _Just perfect_. He stood at the hallway entrance, debating entering and getting roped in on the reprimands, but his headache won out. He needed sustenance.

He entered the kitchen.

Massie met his eyes and he grinned at her, snatching an apple from the bowl on the fresh granite countertop. He could hear Kendra prattling on about some new necklace through Massie's phone as they stared at each other from across the kitchen.

Then, with her mom _still on the line_ _Jesus fucking Christ_ , she leaned back in her chair and smirked at him, revealing herself to be wearing those thin little chiffon lace things girls like to wear to bed. And absolutely no bra.

Fuck, she was trying to play him. He had to step up his game.

So he leaned back against the cold countertop and smiled slowly at her. "Tell mommy I say hi."

Massie almost lost her grip on her phone in her shock. "What the hell, Derrick!" she practically screeched. "Don't fucking call her that."

"Massie, dear?" They could both still hear Kendra's voice through the line. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, mother," Massie replied obediently. She sat up straight and yanked the strap of her slip from where it had trailed off her shoulder up roughly. Derrick grinned and finished his apple. "But I have to go. Derrick's here."

"Oh! Did he just arrive home?" Kendra asked, but Massie was already ending her call.

It seemed her patience had run thin. He refrained from grinning wider.

"Jesus," Massie glared at him, dropping her phone back roughly on their breakfast table. "You're twisted."

Derrick sauntered over and slid in next to her. Grabbing her unfinished plate of yogurt, he took a bite and almost gagged. He didn't know why he bothered trying. Everything Massie ate was fat-free, sugar-free, and most notably, taste-free. It was fucking gross and the absolute worst thing about their invasion and move in because that was all that was ever stocked in the house now. Christ, he knew it was better than bulimia, but Derrick needed real food. He can't be expected to live on this shit too.

He slid it back to her and grinned devilishly. "I prefer the term wicked."

Massie hummed, but didn't contradict him. In actuality, Massie couldn't look at him when he grinned like that and keep her legs closed at the same time, so she didn't bother with a response. From this proximity, Derrick could see her nipples through her silk chemise. Massie leant back and brushed her long silky hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it, sending the scent of her strawberry shampoo to the air and stirring his cock in his pants. Jesus Christ, everything about her turned him on.

It was a lie because he _was_ twisted; he was fucked up for wanting her like he did. Derrick had been into Massie since before they were stepsiblings. They'd been stepping around each other since their breakup back in middle school, the plight of hanging around the same crowds in Westchester. There were only so many cliques at Westchester Prep and Derrick's and Massie's were intimately connected.

His attraction to her _should_ have ended the moment their parents started making out while sharing breakfast on the very table they were currently sitting at, except it _didn't_.

If anything, the fact that they were related and he would never be able to touch her now drove him wild.

Massie Block was the only girl in the world he wanted that he would never be able to fuck.

And then, the games started.

Derrick made his staring obvious. Massie did nothing to stop him. Derrick hinted at sex. Massie gave him that secret smile of hers. Derrick shed his shirts when practicing soccer. Massie did her Pilates in the next room while he tried to watch TV when they had a separate studio gym. Derrick brought girls home to try to relieve his tension. Massie paraded around the house in those silk chemises to fuck with them.

Massie called him messed up, but she played right along. The fact that their parents were always fighting and then making up by taking extended vacations and reunion honeymoons, leaving the house just to themselves only amped it up. It got to the point where Derrick had to bring up their relation for Massie to even falter. But she never _stopped_. And that, _that_ was what turned him on the most. That prim and proper Massie Block was so _dirty_ , as fucked up as he was. Who would have thought? She got off on it as much as he did and that fact that no one in the world _knew_ about her like that except for _him_ … it fucking _ate_ at him that he would never get a taste. It fucked him up.

"What?" Derrick said when he finally tuned back in to the real world.

Massie sneered at him. "You weren't listening?"

"Was it important?" he asked, just to mess with her. He stood and made his way to the fridge to make himself a sandwich. He was done playing, thinking about it all had pissed him off, and he had soccer tryouts for the new school year to supervise.

" _Yes_ ," Massie emphasized, tossing her yogurt into the trash. She stretched over the counter to turn on the tap to rinse her spoon and her chemise rode up on her thighs. Derrick couldn't help it. He peeked. He turned away before Massie caught him, busying himself with his sandwich. Massie leaned against the counter next to him.

The smile on her face didn't bode well for him.

"I've found your new conquest for the school year."

"Oh yeah?" Derrick asked, with a raised brow. "Who?"

"Her name is Claire Lyons."

Derrick looked up from his sandwich. "The new girl?" He put down his knife. He'd heard enough from Kemp, who was trying to tap that, to know that she was some kind of Virgin Mary. "What makes you think I'd want _her_?"

Massie smirked at him, tilting her head and leaning in close. "Oh come on, Derrick. This Claire Lyons girl is celibate. To have her under your belt, you'd be a legend."

Why was Massie trying to talk him into this? She must really want him to sleep with this chick. So Derrick turned to face her and raised his sandwich to his mouth. He took a bite and said smarmily, "Too much work."

It was true though. Derrick preferred his girls easy and more importantly, willing. Massie scowled at him, but she was relentless. That's was one of the things he had always liked about her. Massie had never been afraid to go after what she wanted. And he could tell that she really wanted this. He was testing her to see how far she'd go. She snatched his sandwich from him and placed it on the counter, letting him know the conversation was serious. He bit down on his grin.

" _Think_ about it though. Doesn't it interest you, even a little bit? Possessing her, stealing her innocence? To be the _first_ to show her your world? Of desire, of pleasure, of a _new_ type of heaven," she stepped closer and lowered her voice, "Doesn't that thought turn you on, just a little bit? To know that the thought of falling into bed with you will terrify her, all without stopping her fall. To know that she holds complete faith in virtue, but sacrifices it to _you_."

Massie smoothed down the lapel of his blazer and then smiled up at him. "Tell me that doesn't turn you on."

Jesus fuck him, but it did. Massie was hypnotizing and when she spoke like that, how could he _not_ be turned on? She was right though; the thought of getting this Claire Lyons into bed was looking hotter and hotter. He froze. Fuck, he was being manipulated. So, making sure his face didn't give anything away, he stepped back from her.

"Not really," he said, nonchalantly. He smirked at the smile that dropped off her face. "Trying to fuck her would be like fucking Jesus in the face, no thanks."

"Oh, like you're not already going to hell," Massie snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.

He grinned at her response and relaxed back against the kitchen counter. He didn't pick up his sandwich again though; he knew Massie wasn't giving up yet.

He knew he was right by the twinkle that formed in her eyes. "Bet you can't do it."

Derrick raised his brow. He knew that Massie knew he and his friends liked to make bets, the stakes were always messed up and embarrassing, but he never thought Massie would be interested. "You're saying you want to play?"

Massie licked her lips, leaning her hip against the countertop too and cocking an innocent brow. "I never said that. I was just reconsidering. I don't think you can do it. I mean, Claire would have been corrupted eventually. This _is_ Westchester. I just don't know what made me think _you_ could be the first. Alicia told me _all_ the guys are already into her."

Derrick narrowed his eyes at her underhand tactics. "Trust me, if I wanted to, I could do it."

Massie didn't respond, only continued to look at him with that faux-innocent face and repeated, "Bet you can't."

He cocked a brow at her to show her what he thought about _that_. They stared at each other, until Massie broke the silence with another triumphant grin. "Okay, but if I'm right and you can't… I win ...and I get your Ferrari."

He blinked. "My car?" he laughed. "What makes you think I'd agree to that?"

His car was his one true love, his baby, his everything. He was surprised Massie even put it on the table. It wasn't like she even needed a car; she had a personal driver and him to cart her wherever she needed to go. She had to know there was no way he would ever go for that.

Massie pulled herself up onto countertop and sat down. She leaned on one hand, her hair falling over, and looked at him with a pretty pout. "I thought you were sure you could do it."

"Oh, I am," Derrick assured her. "…So if I win?"

And Massie smiled that secret smile of hers, reserved just for him, and he knew. "If you win, if you fuck her and provide proof… _I'll_ fuck you."

Derrick froze, his mind whirling at what Massie was offering, unsure if he had heard right, unsure if it was all some twisted fantasy he had concocted. But no, it wasn't because she was completely serious. Massie was offering herself in exchange.

Stepping between her legs and placing his hands on her hips, he stared into her amber eyes and gave her a slow smirk. " _You're on_."

Massie's grin was wicked as she causally draped her arms over his shoulders. The smell of strawberries and Chanel and Massie surrounded him. The position was borderline intimate and over the top inappropriate. He couldn't wait to have her in his bed, to have her writhing under him, to have her screaming his name. He already knew she was good from Kemp who never knew when to shut the fuck up. She leaned towards his ear and breathed. "Happy hunting, Harrington."

He'd give it a month tops. By then, he'd have bedded this Claire chick, be branded a fucking legend, and have Massie completely out of his system. The forbidden factor was what drove him off the wall. After this, he'd be gone of her forever. It was a win-win all around for him.

Let the games begin.

.


	3. i got my heart right here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** sorry this took so long. writer's block with massie/derrick characterizations. boy pov is way hard.

**i got my heart right here**

.

 _massie_ ;

With Westchester Prep's standard uniform requiring girls to dress in collared shirts, pleated skirts, and matching blazers emblazoned with the school's crest, there was only so much Massie could do after years of attendance. Today, she switched her standard collared shirt for a flowy silk top and accessorized with a navy tights and a printed scarf instead of the usual tie. A modern day Blair Waldorf.

Massie swung her Tory Burch tote over her shoulder and breezed down the stairs of the Harrington estate. Derrick was heading towards the double doors, just as she reached the bottom steps.

"Give me a ride?" she asked, clasping on her Tiffany bracelet.

"Fine," Derrick muttered, running an impatient hand over his messy blond hair. His blazer wasn't on, his sleeves were rolled up, and his tie was loose. He never had been a morning person. "But I'm not driving you anywhere after school."

"Fine," Massie replied, swinging the door shut after them.

Her stepbrother stood at the passenger side of his Ferrari and held out the door for her to enter. 'It really _was_ a nice ride,' she thought absentmindedly. Massie sat and swung her legs in and watched as he shut the car door for her. Massie relaxed back into the comfortable seat. His car smelled like him, leather and spice and something uniquely all Derrick.

Derrick slammed his own door shut and shifted his car into drive. Massie watched him, until she couldn't take the silence anymore.

She smiled at him sweetly. "I can't wait until I'm riding your car all around town."

Derrick instantly shifted his car back into park with a jolt. Massie blinked in surprise as he let go of the wheel and turned to her stare at her intently, a lock of hair falling into his eyes. Massie had to clutch her hand into a fist and dig her nails into her palm to stop herself from brushing it back for him.

'Inappropriate. So _inappropriate_ ,' she had to remind herself.

Derrick reached over and gripped her chin, giving her that devilish grin of his that turned her on like nothing else. It shouldn't, _it shouldn't_ , but it did. And then, with his caramel eyes boring straight into her amber ones, he tsked and said, "Oh Block, the only thing you're going to be riding… _is me_."

Massie sucked in a breath, feeling her cheeks heat up instantly. Derrick smirked, let go of her, and turned back to his car and the road as if he hadn't just shocked her speechless, knocked her breathless.

She swallowed at the image he had painted of them. Her throat was dry at his audacity, at his nerve, at his overconfidence. Thinking back, she couldn't believe that she had really suggested _that_ option for their bet. …She had just _needed_ Derrick for her plan to ruin Claire and it had killed her that he was interested, but unwilling to do it, _just_ to spite her.

And then it had hit her, all at once; she could make it a game. Another one of _their_ games, and Derrick would be all in.

God, what had possessed her?

 _Yeah_ , she was attracted to the blond. Obviously she was, because he was attractive. A summer on the coast of France had done him well. Tanner and more relaxed, Derrick had returned with a twinkle in his eye that told you he had seen and done it all, that told you life was good, no—that life _is_ good—and that he had absolutely no qualms about enjoying it wholeheartedly. His whole nature screamed carefree and wild, someone who takes life as it comes and just goes with it, never letting anything or anyone pass by without him.

And sure, he had a wicked smile, a killer body, and an annoying air of someone who knew they looked good and thrived on it, which shouldn't have been hot, except that it was, but Jesus… he was her _brother_.

It was wrong times a million.

So, _why_? Because now it might really happen, no, it _would_ really happen. Derrick was going to win their bet and they would—

She cut herself off there, before she could work herself up more. Red was not a good first day back to school look. How would she explain her flush to her friends? With Derrick's attention on the road and off of her, Massie felt like she could breathe again. She forced her hand steady as she reached up for the visor and mirror to fix her hair before they arrived.

Derrick pulled his car into the parking lot with a quick jerk while Massie rolled her eyes. He acted like it was ride or die, as if anyone would even dare to steal his spot. There were rules in place, even if it was only the first day. Top spots near the front quad go to people like Massie and Derrick, and unsuspecting new juniors who didn't know that, learned quickly.

Massie made to get out, but Kemp's Range Rover slid into view suddenly, sliding into the spot next to Derrick's, and her exit was impeded. She cursed and Derrick whistled lowly at her language. He, on the other hand, had no problems exiting.

"Tough luck," he grinned at her, one leg already on the pavement. "Talk about awkward."

Massie scowled at him, but he slammed his own door shut before she could respond. She clamored to exit before Kemp did. Meeting up with your ex for the first time was always beyond embarrassing and she wanted the upper hand.

Readjusting her bag over her shoulder, Massie cast a glance at the students milling on the quad before class. Though they were all reuniting and catching up after a long summer, many were still casting discrete glances at her, Kemp, and Derrick. Word of their breakup had definitely spread, and everyone wanted the latest gossip before class.

Massie mentally prepared herself, schooling her features into indifference. It wouldn't do to show the public, or worse, Kemp, how much the breakup had cost her or how much it had hurt her. She took a deep breath. Even thinking about it now caused an awful churning in her stomach, simmering rage mixed burning mortification that threatened to overtake her manufactured calm.

Never one to hold back in the confrontation department, after he had greeted Derrick with whatever it was that guys did, some half hug fist bump or something, Massie met Kemp's eyes head-on. Even after the anger and shame she felt at being dumped, Massie couldn't stop herself from admiring him. Seeing him again after so long only brought back memories of their time together. Only instead of wanting to screw him now, Massie only wanted to kick him. Because he wasn't hers anymore, he didn't belong to her anymore. Because he had blew it and lost his chance. And he was going to get what was coming to him.

What Kemp should have done was picked up and called her back after the million voicemails she had left him. If he had been done with her, Massie would have liked to have been told straight up, so as to have been spared the embarrassment and torture of obsessing over him. And maybe Massie would have taken it better… maybe, but probably not. But _still_.

Kemp ran a hand through his sun kissed curly hair and cleared his throat, "Massie."

Massie adopted a confident smile, wondering if it looked as fake as it felt. "Kemp," she replied slowly, "How was your summer?"

Kemp cast a desperate glance at Derrick, who was suddenly very interested in his phone, because _awkward_.

"It was pretty great, actually."

Massie bristled at his nonchalance. She _knew_ she shouldn't, but she couldn't stop herself. Letting Kemp know how much his blasé attitude about their relationship, which had _meant_ something to her, when he apparently didn't care at all, was a terrible idea. It reeked of desperation. But it was as if this summer had fucked her up and left her without a filter or common sense or dignity or anything. She felt herself _slipping_.

Being dumped and then being confronted by him outside of her terms was throwing her off her game.

Massie maintained her smile because she felt about a million eyes of the masses burning into the side her face. 'Let them look,' she thought. 'Let them see how well I'm taking our split; let them see how well we're getting along.' Maybe they'll even think it was a mutual break up.

"Yeah?" she raised an eyebrow. Because her's had been awful. Paris had lost most of its appeal after trying to reach her boyfriend a million times and receiving no response. So, also never one to shy away from addressing the problem, Massie just couldn't contain herself. It could never be said that she wasn't fearless. "How's Claire?"

Derrick's head shot up at the mention of the object of their bet, his eyes darted between her and Kemp, his eye brows raised in question. Kemp froze, his hand dropping back down awkwardly. He must not have expected her to mention anything relating to the reason he dumped her.

"Uh… Claire?" Kemp rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Massie felt a thrill of satisfaction run through her at his obvious discomfort. This was what he got for dumping her the moment she arrived back on American soil, _over the phone_ , with no warning, with no explanation. 'This is what you get for dumping me for another girl,' she thought, staring into his green eyes.

"Claire. Claire Lyons?" Massie tilted her head to the side innocently. "Alicia told me you've been showing her around since the beginning of summer."

"Right. Claire, she's… good," Kemp muttered, scuffing the ground with his shoe. He leaned up against his Range Rover next to Derrick, who was watching her with amused eyes. He was picking up very quickly on exactly why she had proposed the bet of corrupting this Claire Lyons to him, but Massie couldn't even bring herself to be bothered with the knowledge that she was giving herself away. Letting him know the reason _why_ she wanted him to sleep with Claire wasn't a big deal.

He was all in, she knew he was. Even the thought of stealing Kemp's new girl wouldn't deter him. Not when she had an ace over him. _Her_.

Massie smiled brightly. "That's great. When do I get to meet her?"

Kemp cleared his throat. "We're not dating."

Of course, Massie already knew that. There was nothing going on between them because Claire refused to give it up. She played innocent though. "Oh, I thought… Oops. I was hoping you could introduce me. I'd love to get to know her."

Kemp raised his eyebrows at her words, but Derrick actually snorted.

" _What_?" Massie laughed lightly, continuing to blink innocently.

Her ex and her brother might just know her too well, but it didn't stop her from playing.

"You want to meet Claire?" Kemp asked her, his tone making it clear that the thought of the two of them conversing on any wavelength was ridiculous.

"Of course," she replied. Adopting a sweet smile, Massie stepped up closer and adjusted his tie for him, knowing the intimacy was making him uncomfortable, given that he didn't feel that way about her anymore. Kemp let her fuss over him. "We'd get along great. I could tell her all about that one time…" she trailed off and bit her lip. "You remember, right? At the country club? I bet she'd love to know about _that_."

Kemp flushed instantly at her words.

And with that, Massie let go, smirked one last time, and flounced off to meet up with Alicia before class.

.

 _derrick_ ;

'Wow. What a bitch,' Derrick thought as he and Kemp watched her walk away. He loved it.

Derrick turned to Kemp with a shit-eating grin. "She's sure taking it well." His friend shot him a look at his sarcasm and let out an answering groan of despair. Derrick only grinned wider. "I warned you. I told you not to go for her."

"Well, I thought you were just jealous that you never got to hit that."

Derrick froze for a beat. 'Not for long,' he thought, feeling a burst of twisted humor. He schooled his expression to make sure he gave nothing away. "Fuck you, man. She's my sister."

He shoved off his friend's car and slid his phone back into his pocket after checking the time. He had told the bastards nine. And they were late.

"Well, I didn't think she'd be out to get me. We were cool."

"Massie doesn't take kindly to being snubbed. In any way," he explained, scanning the quad.

Kemp snorted. "You're telling me …She really thought we'd last the summer?"

Derrick kept his eyes on the milling crowd as she contemplated his friend's words. Now that he had figured out the reason why Massie wanted him to fuck this Claire chick, Derrick _did_ wonder. Was she doing it to fuck Claire over? Or was she doing it to hurt Kemp? Was she expecting to get Kemp back after their bet? Derrick didn't know how he felt about that. He distantly realized Kemp was waiting for an answer. He shrugged carelessly.

"I didn't think she would be _that_ into me. Massie's like the fucking Ice Queen. It took her ages to thaw—"

Derrick was eternally grateful for the interruption that came with the panting arrival of the sophomores. "You're late," he drawled with a raised brow.

The two boys panted, out of breath, mumbling apologizes and excuses he had no patience for. He was doing them a favor and they couldn't be bothered to show up on time. "Lucky for you, I'm generous." The two boys almost deflated with relief. He reached into his pocket and tossed them rags. He smirked at their dumbfounded expressions.

Kemp snickered. "Get to shining," his friend flicked his chin at their cars.

Derrick straightened up. Boys who missed tryouts and wanted another chance on the soccer team were his bitches. Tradition… and he took advantage where he could. The boys hastened to do as they bid, but Derrick grabbed one before he could pass. Liam, his name might have been. He gestured to his car. "You even breathe on her wrong and you're done for."

Liam nodded quickly and he and Kemp left them to their work.

"So, introduce me to this Claire chick," Derrick said nonchalantly as they walked. People parted for them to pass.

Kemp shot him an exasperated look. "You going to fuck this up for me, aren't you?"

Derrick only grinned at him in response.

Turns out, Kemp didn't have to. They didn't even have to look long. They spotted her standing with Massie and Alicia on the front steps of the school entrance. Massie met his eyes as he approached and smirked at him. He raised his brow at her. He didn't even bother paying attention to Kemp and Claire reuniting and greeting each other.

"And Claire?" Massie smiled sweetly. "This is my brother, Derrick."

Claire turned to look at him and it was like something out of a fucking movie. The ray of sunshine from behind her, beaming through the clouds, made her look like some sort of fucking angel. He could see instantly why all the guys at the school were already panting after her. She was new and real in a sea of monotony that was the girls of Westchester. None of the highlights, none of the tan, and none of the fake tits. She was a breath of fresh air.

He could also see instantly why Massie hated her guts. Claire was the probably the polar opposite of her.

And he was going to fuck both of them.

He grinned wickedly.

Man. He had known that he was going to enjoy this.

"Hi," Claire smiled at him, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. In another way that Claire stood out from the rest of the senior girls, she was wearing the complete standard uniform, sweater vest and all. Her pleated skirt also reached her knees, brand new. The girls that had been attending since children had grown up with their skirts, making them almost minis. Some would have probably tailored and shortened them just to fit in, but not Claire. Her innocence should have bothered him, since she was nothing he usually preferred, but now it seemed he was just finding out what made her tick.

"How's it going?" he smiled back at her.

Claire blushed lightly at his grin, making him grin wider. Kemp cleared his throat, but Derrick knew there wasn't much he could do, with his ex right there. Massie, on the other hand, stepped in closer to them. "We were just about to show Claire where her classes were. We wouldn't want the new girl getting lost, would we, Alicia?"

Alicia giggled lightly and linked arms with Claire. "We can show you the ropes, Claire."

Kemp scowled at Massie. Because since when did Massie doll out favors and kindness? When she was up to something. And Kemp just knew Massie was going to warn Claire away from him. But Derrick wasn't going to complain. Kemp off the map made it easier for him.

"Oh yeah?" he asked. "What's your first class?"

"Oh, um, English," Claire answered, her arm still linked with Alicia's.

"With Dingle?" Derrick asked. At Claire's nod, he shot Massie a raised brow and a look filled with humor. "What a coincidence. We're in the same class. And since I know Block has Chem and Kemp has Calc... Well, it makes more sense that _I_ walked you to class."

He stepped around Massie and pushed open the glass doors at the entrance. "If that's alright with you, Claire…?"

Massie watched his and Claire's interaction closely with an unreadable expression, Alicia with an amused brow, and Kemp with a half-hearted glare. The blonde nodded and unlinked her arm from Alicia's, "Of course."

Derrick beamed at her and let her in ahead of him. He glanced back and caught his stepsister's eye again. Her amber eyes twinkling, Derrick shot her a wink.

Game on.

.


	4. i got my scars right here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** the warnings _do_ say life-ruining rich kids with nothing better to do _but_ ruin people's lives. :3

**i got my scars right here**

.

 _claire_ ;

Everything about Westchester Preparatory Academy was like nothing Claire had ever seen, but then again, all of Westchester was like nothing Claire had ever encountered either. The places, the people, everything was so much more sophisticated, and as a result, more manufactured. No substance, no soul. At least, that's what it felt like to Claire. So far, she hadn't met anyone in this place without an ulterior motive.

Claire cast a glance at Derrick next to her, his hand on her back as he led her down the hall towards their first class. Making their way down, the blond had been stopped more than once in greeting by various people and Claire just knew that if this were any place other than Westchester, Derrick wouldn't be giving her the time of day.

She just couldn't help but be suspicious. People like Derrick just didn't associate with people like her. She _knew_ this. She'd seen enough bad teen movies to know to beware of guys like him. But like everyone else, he was overly friendly. Weren't schools like Westchester Prep supposed to be exclusive? Claire felt her head spinning from all the names and people she had already met who wanted to get to know her further.

"You know, I've heard quite a lot about you, Claire," Derrick said as they continued down another hallway.

Claire startled out of her thoughts. "You have?"

Derrick nodded. He stopped, reached out, and grabbed her left hand. His thumb ran over her the ring on her finger, brushing against the ' _true love waits_ ' engraved in silver. Then he caught her eye, "Frankly, I find it depressing."

Claire blinked in surprise before coming to her senses and snatching her hand back. Did she hear him right? "I'm sorry?" she snapped.

"You're swearing off something you've never experienced."

She couldn't help but scoff at his audacity. "I'm not 'swearing' anything off," she told him as she turned and headed down the hallway, with or without him. She wasn't going to be late to her first class on her first day. "I just hold the belief that two people shouldn't experience the act of love until they're _in_ love. And quite honestly, anyone _our_ age isn't really mature enough to really know what those emotions are anyways. Or even what love really is, but _marriage_ , marriage will guarantee that."

"Are you a lesbian?" Derrick called out.

Claire stopped in her tracks instantly. She was so surprised; she couldn't even bring herself to be offended. And then his words hit her, she whipped back around to face him. " _What_?"

"Sorry," Derrick said instantly, sauntering up to her. She wondered if he really was. "It's just… I've never heard anyone say something like that with a straight face."

Claire felt her mouth drop open in indignation. She turned back around instantly and headed down the hall. "I wouldn't expect someone like _you_ to understand anyways," she muttered in disgust. Claire dug in her binder for her map. She'd find her own way to class, but Derrick stopped her with a tug to her arm.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Derrick asked her in surprise.

"It means, you wouldn't understand," she articulated clearly, "And I really don't expect you to."

She was being honest too. Derrick was someone who probably thrived on sex and drugs and probably a whole host of dirty things she couldn't even imagine. He'd probably never been to church in his entire life. But, unlike him, she respected his beliefs and how he wanted to live his life.

Derrick raised his brows and grinned at her.

"You don't even know me," he told her. His charm was borderline cocky and all it did was rub her the wrong way. She removed herself from his grip.

Claire didn't look at him. She pursued her map and absentmindedly shook her head. "I think I have you down pegged, actually."

"Oh yeah?" Derrick asked lightly, running a hand through his messy hair.

"You're not the only one who's heard things."

"Well, what have you heard?"

She paused and debated whether or not to share, but she had a feeling that Derrick wasn't someone that ever got offended by anything. His ego must be blinding him to the fact that Claire wasn't interested in him. So she didn't hold back. Claire sighed and turned back to face him. She met his caramel eyes head on. "That you're a regular Lothario. That you love 'em and you leave 'em. …That you'd say _anything_ to get me in bed with you and then… and then, that you'd break my heart."

Derrick cleared his throat, though his eyes were dancing with humor. "Really?"

Claire scowled; she hadn't been complimenting him. She spun on her heels, crossed her arms over her chest, and made her way down the hall again. Their classroom was just around the corner. Irritated, she was itching to get to class. "I've been _more_ than informed about your reputation."

Derrick pulled her back again. "Who told you all this?" he asked her lowly.

She huffed and pulled herself from his grip _again_. Claire shook her head. "A friend. But honestly, why are you so surprised? It's the truth, isn't it?"

And with that, she turned and entered the classroom without him.

.

 _massie_ ;

"Some guys just can't be tamed, hmm?" Becca Wilder remarked to Liz Goldman as she passed by Massie and Alicia's locker. The 'not even by Massie Block' was left unsaid. There was no need. The sly look she shot Massie from the side practically screamed triumph at her loss. Massie had to clench her hands into fists to stop from lashing out. As a result, the slam of her locker was rougher than intended. Her mirror breaking with a crash could be heard through the metal.

Dylan and Kristen shot her sympathetic looks. Words like 'she's just jealous, she doesn't even know what she's talking about,' gushed from their lips. But Alicia shot her a raised eyebrow at her fit of rage. She pursed her lips in her own mirror before turning to her Alpha. "Well, she _was_ the last person to screw around with him before you. You remember the Josh's pool party, right?"

Yes, Massie absolutely remembered. She also remembered Becca's comments before the summer about her _slipping_. It seemed the B-lister hadn't learned her lesson. She exhaled loudly through her nose and leaned against her locker, unlocking her phone. She scrolled down her contacts until she hit Derrick's name. Alicia slammed her own locker shut and leaned close to watch her type.

' _you ever fuck becca wilder?_ '

Alicia met her eyes and gave her a devious smile, linking arms with her, as they started for Calculus. Kristen and Dylan knew better than to ask; they would find out when Massie was ready to tell. They walked five steps behind the other two.

Her phone chimed with Derrick's reply. ' _probably… why?'_

' _nudes?_ ' she speed typed back as they rounded the hallway. People parted for them to pass. Derrick was notorious for cataloging his conquests.

' _come and get it_. _1_ _st_ _floor bathroom_ ,' was his instant reply.

Massie stopped in her tracks, unlinking her arm from Alicia's. She hummed at her friend. "Change of plans. I'll meet you guys at lunch."

"If you're going to go," Alicia called after her, "go hard."

"My official motto," Massie smiled sweetly. Becca wasn't going to get away with dissing her, again. She turned and headed down the marble staircase as the bell rang, echoing off the halls, and the rest of the students rushed away. Her Sam Edelman pumps clicking on the glossy floors, Massie cast a glance down the deserted hall. It was unnecessary, no classes were ever held down here; it the go to spot for private meetings. She slipped inside.

Derrick was lounging against the tiled seat jutting out from the bathroom wall, lighting up a joint when she walked in. Massie marched right up and snatched it from him. She dropped it and ground her heel down on it. "If you think I'm walking out with that smell in my hair, you've got another thing coming."

Her stepbrother raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you forget to take out your anal beads this morning?"

Massie ignored that, heading to the mirror and inspecting herself. She was having a good hair day; it was just about the only thing she had going for her right now. The school year was off to the worst start possible. "Becca Wilder thinks she's more elevated than she really is," she turned back to him, "I know you have them."

"Well, you're not the only one with problems," Derrick replied nonchalantly. "Some asshole's been whispering in Claire's ear all about me."

"Whispering warnings, you mean?" Massie turned and leaned against the porcelain basin.

Now, Derrick straightened up, swinging his legs to the tiled ground. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't tell me it was _you_."

The accusation earned him a look of profound annoyance from her. His suspicious look slid away, replaced with a look of bemusement. "…Obviously not," her stepbrother said, leaning and relaxing back up against the tiles. A cocky smirk graced his lips. "You _want_ me to fuck this Claire chick, don't you? This isn't about her at all. …You're dying to get revenge on Kemp for dumping you."

Massie turned back around to avoid his eyes. "What is it _about_ her anyways?" she couldn't help muttering.

"Innocence," Derrick said bluntly. At his words, Massie turned back around to face him. She didn't know if he was fucking with her or not. Disbelief and disgust warred inside when she realized he was serious.

"Are you kidding? One fuck and that would be gone. _Then_ what would she have to offer?"

The blond only smirked at her words, unperturbed. "You should try it sometime, Block. Guys might actually—"

She _knew_ he was only baiting her, but reaching her breaking point, Massie snapped. " _Fuck you_ , Derrick!" she screeched. "So, guys like you and Kemp can fuck anything that moves and whore around all over the place, but _I'm_ the slut!? Jesus, heaven forbid a girl enjoy sex, right? God forbid, a girl is _confident_ about herself. Because no 'self-respecting' girl could possibly find enjoyment in sex, right? For deriving pleasure from a pleasurable act, oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for _that_! No, it's okay for guys like you and Kemp to do it, but the moment it's _me_ , I get dumped for 'innocent' uppity bitches like Kuh-laire Lyons."

"Careful now. You're starting to sound a little bitter there, Block."

His sarcasm wasn't appreciated, but she couldn't even bring herself to be embarrassed about her outburst. It was the truth. The double standard had always rankled her. She exhaled, unclenching her fists. Plus, it was only Derrick, and now that she got that off her chest, she _did_ feel better.

Massie made a face. "More like pissed off."

"Are you done?" was her brother's only reply.

"Yes," she bit out sweetly. Massie turned back around to the mirror to make sure she wasn't blotchy from her anger.

"You asked," Derrick drawled. "There's something… sweet about making your mark on uncharted territory, corrupting something so pure."

Massie shot him a look of pure disgust over her shoulder. "You're gross, you know that, right?"

"Don't act like this isn't exactly what you wanted," Derrick stood and approached her. "What was it that you said the other day? …To know that the thought of falling into bed with you will terrify her, all without stopping her fall.'" His hand brushed against the nape of her neck. Her breath hitched, but she didn't stop him. She met his eyes in the mirror. "Something about 'knowing that she holds complete faith in virtue'… but sacrifices it to me. Powerful words." His thumb brushed down the side of her neck gently and Massie shivered.

She batted him away before he could notice his effect on her. She turned back around, her body facing him. She stared at him, then gave him a slow smirk, "Seems like you have a thing for the unattainable."

Derrick's eyes were dancing as he took her in, leaning against the basin nonchalantly. He didn't protest.

"If I didn't know how bad you want this, I'd honestly believe it was you. Who else would want to sabotage this?"

Massie raised a brow at him, amused. "Are you kidding? Are we really going to list all the people out to get you? Talk about finding Waldo. Try all the girls in the _entire_ senior class. Also, every guy's girlfriend you stole just to fuck with them. We should probably include some faculty in there too, I wouldn't put it past you," she tapped a finger against her glossed lips, pretending to think. "Well, let's start with last year. There was Grier Biggs who you fucked over by fingering his girlfriend at Homecoming. And you should probably add her, Kori I mean, to the list too, since you bragged to _everyone_ about it. Then there was that whole instance with Krista Bassett where you—"

Derrick cut her off with a sneer. " _Alright_ , you're right. Stupid question."

Massie giggled, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "Honestly, with your reputation, you didn't think she'd hear stories?"

"And here I thought you wanted me to fuck her over," he raised another brow.

"I _do_ ," Massie smiled sweetly at him. "You're perfect for the job, with your exact reputation. But if you don't think you can do it… it means you forfeit, doesn't it? And _that_ means your hot, little car is all mine. I _did_ want to hit up the mall today after school. You'll have to hitch a ride with Kemp."

"Ha ha," Derrick deadpanned. "You're not as funny as you think you are."

Massie hummed at him, pleased with herself. She sat herself down on Derrick's old seat, crossing her legs daintily. Derrick pushed her over and plopped down next to her. He placed his head into his hands, ran them through his hair, and groaned. "You should have heard some of the shit she was spewing out. You would have cried from laughter."

"Let me guess," Massie tilted her head. She donned her public persona voice, the one she used when talking to her parents and teachers. Sweet and preppy and innocent, she chimed, "'Sorry, Derrick, but I'm waiting for the one, but the only one in my life _is Jesus_.'"

Derrick turned to stare at her with disbelieving eyes. "You are, honest to God, spot-on."

A laugh bubbled out of her throat before she could stop it. "Jesus Christ, is she for real?"

"I've never met anyone more uptight in my life."

At those words, she cast him a sly glance from the corner of her eye. "Sounds like she needs to get laid," she sang.

Derrick sneered at her again. He tugged on his school tie roughly, loosening it. "Claire's not like other girls. A tennis bracelet and an offer of a quick fuck behind the bleachers won't do it for her."

He reached over and tugged on her Tiffany charm bracelet as if to prove his point. She slapped his hand away, gifting him with her own sneer.

"Classy, Derrick," she snapped. "God, if that's your regular tactic, I weep for the girls at this school."

Her brother only grinned devilishly in response. Massie cast her eyes away from him quickly, observing the deserted bathroom. Sometimes, she hated the effect he had on her. She got up and turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest. Derrick, who had slouched against the tile walls again, watched with impassive eyes as she leaned closer and smirked at him.

"Well, there you go," she told him.

His brow raised in a silent question.

"You said it yourself," Massie repeated slowly. "Claire's not like other girls. So treat her differently."

"That's your advice?" her brother asked her incredulously. He rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Duchess Obvious. As if I hadn't known that already."

Massie smirked wider. " _Aw_. Is this turning out to be too hard for you, Harrington?" she cooed patronizingly, but she gasped in surprise when Derrick's hands shot out and landed on her hips. He tugged her closer to him, in between his legs. She stumbled, but gripped his shoulders to stable herself with a scowl.

"Not even close," he breathed. "You should know by now that I enjoy a good challenge, Block."

"Lucky for you then," she smiled darkly. "You've found just the girl; she might never give it up."

Derrick's left hand slipped under her blazer and silk top, brushing against her bare hip. Massie felt goosebumps forming on her arms and tingles running down her spine at his touch. They had never, ever been like this before. She had never allowed him these liberties before and he had never tried anything like this on her before. It was like her proposal of the bet had allowed them to cross all the lines. She swallowed deeply, her throat suddenly dry.

"It's like you want me to fail," Derrick grinned wickedly. "…when we both know how much you want this." Massie narrowed her eyes at the reminder of Kemp, but then he continued, and she froze in indignation at his next words. "…How eager you are to fuck me, I mean."

Massie slapped his hands away instantly, removing herself completely away from his grip. "You're _kidding_ , right?" she asked, making her tone as rude as possible. She couldn't believe that she let him lull her into a false sense of… _whatever_ he had been doing to her before she remembered how much of an asshole he was.

Derrick laughed. "Who proposed the terms of this bet again, _sis_?"

She ignored him completely, while her mind frantically spun for a snappy comeback. It's like being around him shut down all her brain cells. She forgot who she was around him.

"What I'm 'eager for' is for you to fuck _Kuh-laire Lyons_ ," she finally settled on saying.

Done playing, Massie held out her hand, palm facing up. Sensing her impatience, Derrick reached into his slacks and pulled out his iPhone. He held it just out of her reach though, as if he couldn't resist teasing her once more. The cocky smirk on his face made Massie want to smack him. "Admit that you're eager for my cock and you can have all the pictures you want."

Massie's mouth dropped open in shock.

" _As if_ ," she practically shrieked. She reached for his phone. When he pulled it back, Massie, too caught up in the moment, couldn't resist wrestling with him for it. He arched backwards, holding it over his head, but Massie clamored onto the seat. Derrick's arm snaked around her waist and tugged her down to the bench next to him instantly, but in his distraction, Massie snatched his phone from his hand.

Smirking at him in triumph, she held it out for him to unlock it. Rolling his eyes, Derrick typed in his password. Massie didn't bother to remove herself away from him, too distracted with his collection as she scrolled through his photos.

She stopped when she found Becca. She was nowhere near a perfect ten, but Massie wasn't so insecure about her own looks to not be able to admit that the other girl _did_ look good from that angle, spread out like that. Massie tapped his screen as she debated whether this would decrease or increase Becca's social standing. Most likely decrease, she settled on deciding, last she heard, Becca was dating someone. Either way, Becca was an idiot for forgetting that Derrick was her stepbrother. She loved when people underestimated her.

She started to attach a few contacts, knowing that it would make the rounds by the end of the day, as Derrick watched her with a twinkle in his eyes, but then she remembered Alicia's words.

_If you're going to go, go hard._

She attached Derrick's entire school contact list, along with the photo. His devious grin matching her own, she met Derrick's caramel eyes and hit send.

Let's see how Becca liked that.

A lesson to anyone who fucked her over.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** obviously, the characters views aren't my own. hope i didn't offend anyone.
> 
> thank you for all the reviews and comments. you voted massington? you got 3,000 words of massington. :3
> 
> massie/derrick aren't good people, but they're very fun to write. to everyone saying that they should just fuck already, LOL. one, stepsibling!cest isn't usually encouraged in the real world and two, that's the whole point. they could very well do that, but they love their wicked games too much. [aha, c wut i did thur].
> 
> they get off on it.
> 
> see you next time! kisses!


	5. bring the cups, baby; i could bring the drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes:** sorry this took so long! i know the only thing you're looking for is new chapters as my way of apologizing for going on an sudden unexpected hiatus, but i had excuses. college is killer. note to future science majors: do not take 4 labs a semester. you will die. i did. on top of that, i had major writer's block on this stupid thing because i had to write all these derrick/claire scenes and since the majority of you want derrick/massie, i was stressing about everyone jumping ship, or finding it a drag, or whatever, just psyching myself out. you know?
> 
> i rewrote this chapter like, 3 times. anyways, it's not the greatest. just a look into derrick's pov and some leeway with claire. i didn't want to do a cliché, where they're stuck for a project together. i wanted claire to choose, to decide whether or not she wanted to interact with him. anyways, that scene is inspired by some girls are.
> 
> thank you so much for all the reviews and encouragement. seriously, it really kicked my butt in gear.

**bring the cups, baby; i could bring the drink**

.

 _derrick_ ;

It was barely the end of summer and already the cold was creeping in; the students preferring the posh indoor café to the grassy quads outside. The bustle and rising noise levels of the cafeteria was familiar, with girls crowding the salad bar and guys lining up for pizza and burgers. And as per unspoken rule, despite lunch already halfway through and seats filling up quickly, the table nearest to the huge wall-to-wall window overlooking the campus stayed empty. It was well know that table eighteen was reserved for Derrick, Massie, and CO.

Derrick seated himself in his usual spot and wolfed down his food, watching the bustle of students around the café and soaking up as much sun as he could, while he could. Apparently, it was going to rain tonight during practice.

Massie, making her way over from across the cafeteria, brought his mind back to the bet and he huffed out a breath, shoving his lunch tray away. _Okay_ , so this whole Claire thing might take a lot more effort than he initially thought, but that didn't mean that he was going to back down. Not at all.

Derrick watched with unconcerned eyes as his stepsister set her lunch tray down next to him at her usual spot. Westchester Prep being so elite was just about the only reason that Massie got away with hanging around with their crowd whilst still maintaining the prissy, well dressed, model student performance she kept up.

For Derrick, dating her in the past, _living_ with her, allowed him to see her act for what it was, an act. The Academy knew nothing about the real Massie. Watching her act now, at school, he could barely see it himself. There was no absolutely chance for the rest of their peers at all. Well, sure, the school must have had _some_ clue to her inner ire when her command was threatened, but they couldn't possibly imagine the extent.

Or the lengths she was willing to go.

Like their newest game, for example.

Giving up her biggest ace, her trump card, over him by placing the one thing that he wanted from her on the table just to get him to take down this Claire chick was a risk on her part. Because once Derrick got Massie out of his system, their games would be _done_ and Massie wouldn't have any hold over him anymore.

It meant that Derrick _won_.

More than just the bet, but _all_ their games as well. He was looking forward to it.

"What are you so smug about?" Massie sniped, opening her water bottle. Her narrowed eyes told him she thought he had no reason to be. It had been almost a week and he still hadn't made his move, but Massie had never specified a time limit. And he just knew that if he waited just a bit longer… Massie would do the work for him. She'd basically _serve_ Claire up to him on a silver platter if he laid back and waited.

Alicia slid into an empty seat at their table and Massie's eyes snapped towards her. "Did you even—"

"Relax," the Spanish beauty chided, rolling her eyes. She ignored Massie's narrowed eyes and ripped open her yogurt lid. "I told Dyl and Kris. Claire's going to come."

"Phrasing, boom," Kemp said instantly from behind him. Derrick automatically raised his fist to meet his with a grin as Chris, Josh, and Cam snickered, sliding into their seats. Massie wrinkled her nose before smoothing her face into an impassive mask at their audience, but Alicia grinned. _Bingo_. Throwing Claire into his face by inviting her to lunch was a reminder for him to step on it. Derrick knew his stepsister would rather cut off all her hair before accepting her into her circle of friends. But just to make sure, he leaned in towards her so the others wouldn't hear.

"You know by inviting her, you're just cementing the fact that she's Westchester's new It Girl, right?"

Massie arched an eyebrow at him and gave him a look that told him she thought he was an idiot. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Harrington," she replied loftily.

 _Yep_ , Derrick thought, moving away and leaning back in his seat with a hint of a smirk. He was right. Massie was all about snakes and weeds and waiting in them. Still, she would have to be putting on the act of the century, at _least_ , in accepting Claire because this was going to rile her. Kemp panting after Claire in _front_ of her, up close and daily? He doubted that this ploy would last longer than a week. Derrick shook his head. But he should have known, growing up in Westchester, he knew better than anyone the notion of the higher the rise, the harder the fall.

Still, he grinned. "So you're telling me you're not worried at all? Claire's looking to be more golden than you, even with your little act."

Her amber eyes flashed at him. "I wouldn't be worried, if you're in it to _win_ it," she hissed, her voice low. It wasn't really needed. Alicia and the guys were loud, wrapped up in their own conversations, and the rest of the cafeteria drowned them out completely.

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Derrick replied, crumpling his empty burger wrapper in his fist. He aimed at a nearby trashcan, perching to throw. "When I'm done with her, Claire Lyons will be the premiere slut of Westchester." He made the shot, and turned back to her with a cocky grin.

Massie rolled her eyes, but there was a pleased smile tugging at her lips. It was smothered in a heartbeat though. "I'll believe it when I see it. At this rate, _I_ could probably be making more progress getting into her skirt than _you_."

Derrick's brow rose at the notion, his grin spreading. Massie and Claire? "Now that's something I'd pay to see. You know if we didn't already have a wager going, I'd bet anything that—"

She cut him off with a, "Dream on, pervert," but there was that secret smile on her lips. Before he could make another smarmy reply, she ended their conversation by cutting across Alicia's, as if their interlude never happened. "I told _you_ to bring her, Leesh," she chided.

Her dark hair friend turned to her with a sigh, dipping her spoon into her yogurt, and shrugged. "Kris had AP Econ with her just before. I thought it'd be more of a guarantee of her coming if we caught her right after class than if I waited for her at her locker or something just to ask." Massie let it go, shifting her attention back to her smearing her bagel. Alicia smiled, lifted her spoon to her mouth, and licked her yogurt slowly. She was putting a show. The other guys were riveted, and from her smile, she knew it.

"You're such a tease, Alicia, fuck off," Chris scoffed, tossing a napkin in her direction.

Alicia dropped her spoon and flung her dark hair over her shoulder. She pouted, "Aw, Chris, you know I give it up plenty. You're just jealous you never got a taste…" She smirked slowly, her brown eyes twinkling. "If you beg nicely when I'm drunk enough, maybe you'll get lucky."

Everyone stared at her in surprise, except for Massie, who was smothering a smile.

"Seriously?" Chris bit out.

"No," she scoffed, a teasing smile on her lips. "The amount of alcohol _that_ would require would literally kill me."

The whole table erupted into laughter. Massie and Alicia cackled, reaching across the table to high five each other, while the other boys jeered and socked Chris in the arm as he glared daggers at Alicia.

Movement caught the corner of his eye. Kristen and Dylan were heading over with their own lunch trays, Claire Lyons trailing after them, still clad in her proper uniform, complete with blazer and matching sweater vest. It was a shame. Derrick's favorite thing about the girl's school uniforms were the white collar shirts. Stretched tight and in the right lighting, all the girl's nipples were visible perfectly. But with Claire, maybe it was better this way. She was so proper that when he finally got to see her, it would be _all_ of her. And well, that would be worth it.

He stayed relaxed, eyeing the cafeteria as dozens of incredulous eyes followed the new girl over to their table. It was one thing for the guys to invite a girl over to their table; they were usually the flavor of the week or month or whatever, but for the Pretty Committee to invite a girl over… _that_ was a rare occurrence. Rare as in never, as far as Derrick knew.

"Everyone," Dylan announced as she slid into her seat. "This is Claire. Claire, this is everyone."

Massie's face smoothly transformed back being impassive in company. Derrick rolled his eyes. _Right_ , good girl Massie Block couldn't afford to be overhead laughing at a joke like that. As everyone introduced each other and greet Claire, Kristen stayed standing, practically bouncing on her feet in excitement.

"Mass, have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Massie asked carelessly as she kicked out the chair next to her and gesture for Claire to sit. Claire did, setting her tray down gently. His stepsister threw her a winning smile before turning to Kristen.

"The school board made the decision today—" she started to say, but was interrupted by Alicia, resident gossip queen. Derrick rolled his eyes at their pettiness at one upping each other.

"Is this about Becca Wilder? I heard the same thing this morning," Alicia cut in nonchalantly, picking up her yogurt and resuming eating.

Kristen flushed in anger and opened her mouth to protest, but Massie cut across them all. "Heard, _what_?" she asked again impatiently.

"Becca Wilder was asked to step down from Student Council," Alicia threw out with relish before Kristen could get another word in. The blonde plopped down next to Dylan with a scowl. "The Board thinks it's better this way… after what happened. They want someone more… _refined_ as Student Council President. Especially since it made the news, what with her dad's campaign for Mayor and all."

Derrick turned his head and caught his stepsister's eye. She had planned this; he could see it in the brightness of her amber eyes and the twitch of her glossed lips. But Claire spoke suddenly, her head tilted innocently. Derrick wondered how everything she did was so innocent. Maybe it was because she was so soft-spoken; she practically radiated sweetness to the point of sugar. She turned to Massie. "But aren't _you_ Student Council president, Massie?" she asked.

Massie turned away from him with a small shake of her head. "No, close though. I'm Student body president."

"Oh, right," The blonde nodded, taking a sip of her soda. "What's the difference?"

"Student Council President oversees everything, but the council is mostly all about voting, electing, and monitoring rules and regulations. Study body president, on the other hand, is in charge of organizing benefits, dances, and events, and mostly working as a voice for the students," Massie explained patiently.

"Basically, one's based on merit and the other's a popularity contest," Derrick threw in.

Massie rebutted by elbowing him in the side.

"Just putting out there," he grinned as his friends snickered.

"Well, put it back _in_ ," Massie snapped with a sneer, breaking her angelic disposition.

See? That right there, that _tone_ , was the exact reason he dated her and also the exact reason he dumped her. It was one thing to _watch_ her talk smack someone down, because _hot_. But it was a whole other thing to be on the receiving end of it. He raised his eyes and released a fond long suffering sigh. She was such a bitch.

His stepsister turned back to Claire, the sweet smile back on her face. "What he _means_ is that Student Council president is appointed and the student body president is elected."

Claire nodded in understanding, before looking down at her salad and prodding her chicken with more concentration than necessary.

"But _really_ , Mass, what's going to happen now?" Kristen whined, apparently recovering from her brush off with Alicia.

Massie seemed to be considering her words, but Derrick rolled his eyes again. She was just drawing this out, savoring her victory. Massie was so predictable sometimes.

"Well, it's a shame that this would happen so close to Homecoming week," Massie said dispassionately, ripping up her napkin and discarding the papers on her tray. "We haven't even started _planning_ and Student Council is supposed to be leading."

"Do you think they're going to appoint someone new? Or _move_ someone up?" Kristen asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

"I'm sure that Dean Wiseman is going to ask me and the council to draw up a list of names for recommendation," Massie considered, twirling a lock of chestnut brown hair around her fingers. Kristen sat up straighter, but Massie's amber eyes met hers full on. "But Kristen, you're already swamped as treasurer and didn't you say last week that you wanted to help me with the Junior League benefit? Plus, you're soccer captain this year. School rules say scholarship students only get one extracurricular anyways. You can't lead both. Council president would be way too much work for you."

Kristen sighed, slumping in her seat and shoving her tray away from her. "You're right," she murmured, defeated and sullen. "But if not _me_ , then who?"

"Seriously," Kemp muttered, "who'd be interested?"

The others snickered in agreement, but Claire suddenly spoke, "I would."

She blushed lightly as all the attention turned to her. "I mean—I know I'm new, but I was the student body president at my old school in Florida and it was basically the same job as a student council president here and well, I kind of do need at least one extracurricular to fulfill my scholarship. Plus, I've only been here a week and already I can think of a few things that need to be better regulated."

Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan turned to Massie, speechless. Even Derrick was curious, watching the interactions with a raised brow. But Massie surprised them all by throwing Claire a winning smile, "I think you'd be a great candidate."

The bell rung before any of them could voice their shock or disbelief, signaling the end of lunch.

Derrick waved his friends off ahead of him saying he'd see them all in class or at practice, knowing that if he didn't hang around, he'd never hear the end of it from Massie.

"Thanks for sitting with us, Claire," Alicia perked once she felt the pressure of Massie's eyes on her. She tossed her lunch into the bin and stacked her tray carelessly with a clatter. "It was fun; we should do it again sometime."

Massie and Claire nodded, Claire pleasantly and Massie approvingly. Alicia grinned and flounced off, Dylan and Kristen murmuring goodbyes and agreements with saccharine smiles before following after her. Massie turned to Claire when it was just the three of them left amongst the bustling crowd heading out of the cafeteria and to class.

"You should join us again tomorrow, so that we can talk more about the student council position," Massie told her.

Claire nodded slowly, accepting the invitation. "Thanks, Massie. This is really cool of you."

"No problem," she replied breezily. "Listen, I have Government all the way in the South Buildings and Healy is a cow about attendance. I have to go, but you know where your next class is, right?"

Claire glanced at her schedule, still on the front of her binder for reference. Westchester Prep's block schedules meant more optimized learning and more options for electives, but it was also a pain in the ass to get back into the flow of every year. Derrick could imagine the Claire was pretty overwhelmed with the shifting schedules. Not to mention the setting and geography, what with separate buildings and wings for each subject. "Um, I have Calculus. Would that be in a separate building?"

That was his cue. See? Served right up to him on a silver platter.

"That'd be in Blackwell," Derrick spoke. "It's alright. I have Calculus too." He had a lot of classes with Claire, actually. It wasn't too weird; there were only about 80 students in their year. "I'll walk you."

Massie grinned, pleased that he was following along. "Thanks, Derrick," she drawled. She turned to Claire. "Westchester Prep is like a labyrinth, as you've probably discovered. I remember I had trouble for weeks before I got the hang of it. I'd feel better knowing you'd have someone with you."

"Sure," Claire said slowly, but she was eyeing Massie with indecipherable eyes. They cleared with brightness a moment later though. She paused at the cafeteria exit to wait for Derrick and smiled at his stepsister. "I guess I'll see you later then, Massie."

Massie waved faux sweetly. "Bye, Claire. See you later, Derrick."

Derrick saluted her with two fingers, pulling open the door for the blonde in front of him and leading the way down the linoleum hallways. But unlike last time he walked Claire to class, he didn't push her. He already knew that none of his regular tactics would work with someone like Claire. Even now, she looked a little weary of him after their last confrontation. He supposed she had a right to be, knowing that he wanted to get into her pants, but it grated on him how she was so accepting of Massie and so weary of him. They were practically cut from the same cloth, two sides of the same coin.

Even so, he plowed through.

"Claire, listen. I'm sorry about the other day. It was fucked of me to question your beliefs like that."

She turned her head and studied him with her bright blue eyes for a moment. He wondered what she was thinking. "It's okay," she finally said. "I'm just… glad? That you understand my position, I guess."

Derrick blinked in surprise. She actually bought it. He had meant it, of course, but _still_. Massie or any of the other girls would have made him work for it or grovel for days, at least. "I do," he said, smiling slightly at her. The halls weren't as crowded as the last time Derrick walked Claire to class, allowing them to walk side by side. Claire's shoulders relaxed slightly in relief. "And, Claire, I want you to know that I'm not like that. What you've heard."

"Aren't you though?" Claire asked, but not unkindly. She said it softly, as if she believed that he was in denial or something.

"No," Derrick said resolutely. He wasn't _technically_ lying. The girls he fucked knew exactly what they were getting into. There wasn't any sweet-talking or convincing required. They knew who he was and they were willing. He wasn't someone who forced himself on them and they _knew_ it was just sex. The heartbreaker rumors were the girls deluding themselves into thinking they could change him.

"No," he repeated as they rounded a corner. "I'm not. It's not just about sex, Claire. I want to get to know you." Claire faltered slightly at that and Derrick smothered his grin. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Let me take you out on a date."

"I—" Claire winched slightly. "I… don't think that we'd be good together."

Derrick gave her a rueful smile. He pulled the door leading to the quad open for her. The wind hit them instantly and Claire shivered, tucking her hair behind her ears to keep it from flying. "Claire," he said her name fondly. "It's a date; it's not a marriage proposal. You can just say no."

Claire seemed a bit more reassured to hear that he wasn't pushing her. They walked across the quad in silence, Derrick slightly leading the way towards Blackwell. Claire couldn't seem the stand the silence. She turned to him, blushing a bright pink. "It's just—I don't know anything about you."

Derrick spared her the whole friendship talk. He understood what she meant. She was reluctant, but she was interested. Enough to not brush him off completely. Claire was someone who needed to be friends first.

He did grin down at her this time. He changed the topic to save her.

"So, Claire Lyons, Student Council President, huh?"

Claire looked very relieved at the change of topic, her shoulders relaxed and she gave a small laugh; part embarrassment, part bashful. It was endearing. She shook her head lightly. "Ack! I don't know what I was thinking, really." She covered her face with her binder and shut her eyes tight, her cheeks a light pink. "It was stupid. I mean… I don't know anything about—"

Derrick watched stray leaves scuttle across the ground from the wind in front of them. "I wouldn't say that. You were something similar at your old school, right?"

Claire lowered her binder with a small smile. "Yeah, but this is…" She paused there, looking around, taking note the bronze statue of their school founder in the center of the quad, the various well dressed students making their way to classes, the many brick buildings crawling with ivy named after alumni. She bit her lips, searching for the the right words before shaking her head. "…kind of a whole other world."

Derrick clicked his tongue, glancing at her out of the side of his eyes. "Well, between you and me, Westchester's not really hard to figure out. I'm sure you've already got the lay of the land. Already spotting things needing to be better regulated, I think you mentioned."

Claire winced and almost squeaked, twirling around in a circle at the edge of the grassy quad in her embarrassment. Derrick couldn't help grinning at her antics. "That actually came out all wrong earlier. That was kind of rude of me…"

"Nah," he shrugged, pulling open the door to Blackwell. "Not rude. Honest. What were you referring to?"

Claire seemed to falter at his question. She hesitated, but answered. "Quite a few things, really. The morals of students here. I mean, what happened with Becca Wilder? That's cyber bullying, isn't it? What people are saying about her and stuff. The blatant sexism. …Becca's life is damaged by what happened and it's…unfair… But not just that, it's also things like the dress code, student drug usage, the school's emphasis on sports and not really academics, and special treatment and favors granted to children of alumni."

Derrick raised his eyebrows at the passionate fervor in her eyes. He was honestly, guilty of everything she mentioned. Half the school was. He had to admire her ambition though. He cleared his throat. "It sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this."

Claire wrinkled her brow slightly, glancing down at the linoleum floors. "Sorry… I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't really think I could be Student Council President."

Derrick thought about Massie's easy acceptance. He had a feeling that Claire just might be with Massie pushing her name forward. He wondered what his stepsister had planned. "I think you'd be surprised… The school values these types of thing. More, after things like what happened with Becca. Maybe regulation's what we need."

Claire glanced up in surprise. She licked her lips. "Really?"

"Yeah," he shrugged carelessly, wondering if she could see through him. The last thing he wanted was drug tests at school, but knowing the kind of people on the student council, who did more drugs than him, he doubted it would really be applied. "Like, special treatment? I can see how unfair that is."

Claire nodded eagerly, rolling her eyes in anger. "It is. Like, the other day, in English with Dingle, you remember, right? He just let that one guy off the hook. He said it was okay that he didn't have his essay in time!"

Derrick coughed to cover his laugh. He hadn't had it either. Yeah, he definitely saw what he meant. With alumni parents and goalie of a championship winning soccer team, most teachers let it slide when he didn't have homework to turn in.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Derrick said. He pointed out their classroom.

Claire couldn't really reply, the bell rung again the moment they entered. Their teacher, Mr. Levin, glared at the both of them. "Cutting it close, you two," he muttered, fingering his attendance sheet. "Take a seat."

Their slow walk through the quad and their almost tardy meant that most seats were taken. Claire slid into the first available seat, blushing bright red at the attention. Derrick slid into a seat next to Jake Shapiro in the back. Alicia, in front of them, turned around and fake-tsked at him. He rolled his eyes.

After attendance, Levin passed out the pretests to measure achievement at the end of the year. It was nothing new. Most of them had had pre-calc with him last year and knew the drill. When he started to call on students to answer questions on the board though, they all eyed each other. Derrick shared a look with Jake, rolling in eyes in disgust. Though he had nothing to worry about because he was never called, most of the guys were always pissed at the wasted time.

Everyone knew what a pervert Mr. Levin was. He only ever called girls up to ogle them. Penelope Rothman, whose skirt was obscenely short today, was first, followed predictably by Alicia. And Derrick felt a sudden stroke of genius. He suddenly knew exactly how to impress Claire.

Derrick watched Levin leer at her chest, and waited.

"Perfect," Levin grinned, when Alicia set down her dry erase marker. "Well done."

He raised his hand. Most of the class turned to look at him inquiringly. He waited until all eyes were on him and then said, "Mr. Levin? I must have gotten the same test as Alicia, because I had that problem too. And she definitely got that one wrong."

The instant silence was delicious. No one had ever called out Mr. Levin before. He usually let everyone slide in return for letting _him_ slide. Alicia reddened in embarrassment and glared daggers at him. ' _What the fuck?_ ' her flashing eyes demanded. Claire turned around slowly and stared at him in astonishment.

Mr. Levin blinked slowly, caught. He reddened too. He cleared his throat. "Maybe, _you're_ the one who has the answer wrong, Mr. Harrington." He paused and looked around the classroom, as if waiting for the class to laugh in agreement. No one did.

Derrick suppressed his grin. Keeping his face impassive, he replied slowly, "I don't think so, sir."

Jake choked on his laughter and the rest of the class joined in. Derrick turned and stared at Claire, who had covered her mouth in shock. She shook her head slowly at him as if she couldn't believe him. She was undeniably impressed. Special treatment and sexism shot down in one move. She turned slightly pink at his attention on her, as if slowly realized that he had done it for her.

Mr. Levin blotched purple in anger. "Settle down!"

Alicia continued to glare at him as she sat back down. They walked through the problem together as a class, and of course, he was correct. Mr. Levin stuttered senseless excuses, still bright red. Something about the process of math and how sometimes having wrong answers allowed for variables to improve...

After class, Claire approached Derrick outside the classroom.

"I—I can't believe you did that," she said, scandalized.

"Mr. Levin is a pervert." Derrick shrugged. He shifted the Calculus book under his arm. "And you were right. Some things should be better regulated… Someone had to say something."

"Yeah…" Claire stared at him, taking him in. She bit her lip nervously. "Look, Derrick. I don't want you to think that I—" She cut off awkwardly. Derrick waited patiently. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not interested—not like that, I mean, and I—"

"Claire," Derrick smiled at her slowly. She blinked at him, dazed. Her eyes were so blue; they reminded him of his summer on the Riviera. "I get it. You're not interested."

"I—yes," Claire shook herself and picked at her binder.

Derrick raised his brows, feeling amused at her confusion. "But I still want to get to know you…" He paused there and watched her take in his words. "How about friends?"

Claire blinked again in surprise and flushed lightly again. She looked parts relieved and parts elated at the option. She smiled at him, a quirk of her soft lips, backing up a bit. "Yeah… Friends. That sounds okay."

"Good," Derrick grinned at her. He nodded his head down the hallway, in the opposite direction of where she was walking. The bell would be ringing soon. "I'll see you later, Claire."

"Yeah…" she answered. "I'll see you."

Derrick turned and headed off, a smug grin tugging at his lips. Progress.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** extra super long chapter [couldn't find a good cut off point so i just posted it all] with both claire and derrick interactions for you! still shipping massington or rooting for clairington now?
> 
> it's summer now, so more updates to come! though i am also working on 'exclusive' too and kind of considering a multi-chap of derrick/massie mafia adventures, an kind of bonnie/clyde expansion from my oneshot, but we'll see!
> 
> please review so i know if you guys are still interested in this! kisses!


	6. bring your body, baby; i could bring you fame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **note1:** what's this? an update? from me? impossible!
> 
>  **note2:** i know, i'm sorry. i'm alive! i swear i had a legit chapter, but i couldn't get past a certain point in it so today i just scrapped it all completely and wrote this up in like 5 hrs bc i finally had a slow week at uni. slow as in only no exams, only quizzes and assignments. so, i didn't even reread this chapter because i knew that if i did i would be too insecure to post this, so here you go.
> 
>  **note3:** YOUR REVIEWS HAVE BEEN READ AND HEARD. THE ENDGAME WILL BE… MASSINGTON. …too bad they're so stubborn! they just love their wicked games too much. SO, we have to weather some clairington to get there. but we'll get there... eventually. muhaha! [evil, evil grin] they both have to grow the fuck up and learn some things first lol.
> 
>  **note4:** once again, the characters views aren't mine  & i don't condone what they're doing. i'm just getting into the headspace and writing about it.

**bring your body, baby; i could bring you fame**

.

 _derrick_ ;

When Derrick finally pushed open the double doors from the locker room after a rough practice, refreshed from a quick shower, the air outside was crisp and cool. Summer seemed to be ending sooner each year. He turned and blinked in surprise at seeing his stepsister sitting on a bench near the soccer field waiting for him. His face didn't show it though, as he hiked his duffle bag more securely over his shoulder and asked, "Don't you have anything better to do than to hound me every two minutes?"

"Obviously not," Massie replied sweetly. "Seeing as I'm right here."

Derrick rolled his eyes and turned toward the parking lot, hearing Massie get up and skip after him. A moment later, she appeared by his side, slipping her arm through his. "Student body just got out, thought I'd hitch a ride with you."

"Can't," he told her instantly. He was supposed to meet up with Claire again to study. They'd been hanging out almost every day after school, but he didn't feel like bringing her up with Massie. It wasn't worth the effort.

"What?" Massie furrowed her brow. "Why not?"

"I'm busy," was all he told her, keeping his eyes on his car in the distance.

Massie stopped and tugged on his arm. He was forced to turn and face her. Instead of reprimanding him for his curt answers though, his stepsister smiled slightly and stepped up closer to him, their bodies almost touching. Her hand reached out and touched a droplet of water trailing down his face from his damp hair. Derrick held his breath as Massie's hand slid up and pushed his hair back away from his face. His own hands reached out and caught hers in a tight grip.

"Fucking leave it," he snapped.

He picked up and dropped her hand, fighting off the warmth. It was only because he hadn't touched anyone for weeks.

But again, instead of being offended by his rude behavior, Massie grinned wider. " _Oooh_. Touchy, Harrington. I think you need to get laid."

 _Fuck yeah he did_. He cursed his whole plan with Claire hinging on dating her. He'd been keeping it in his pants by turning down girls left and right, so yeah he was hard up. Between keeping up a one woman façade and Massie rubbing up all over him whenever she had the chance, he was going to die of blue balls. Fuck.

Massie smirked knowingly, before stepping in closer to him, winding her arms around his neck. Her body brushed against his. She must have been desperate for his attention, because they haven't been this close to each other since they dated years ago. He was sure that if he hadn't turned her down, she wouldn't be playing dirty. On any other day, she would never have started something like this. And especially not in public.

Too bad he was late and wasn't in the mood to fuck around. Claire was waiting.

She was so close he could smell her; strawberries, Chanel, and something pure Massie. He stared down at her, breathing her in.

Massie faked a pout and looked up at him through her lashes. "Are you saying you don't want to give me _ride_?"

And then as if he could miss the double entendre, she slowly flicked her wet pink tongue over her lips. Derrick's balls lit on fire. He shut that shit down real quick with a clench of his jaw. It was one thing to tease and flirt with Massie, but it was a whole other thing to have a visible raging boner for her. Massie would never let him live it down.

Derrick sighed heavily down at her in frustration, because fighting her off would only encourage her. "I'm sure you can take _care_ of yourself," he told her straight-faced.

Unnerved at his passive aggressive response doubling as a snub, Massie stepped away from him. Blessedly. Derrick looked back out over the empty soccer field with another sigh. "Look, I gotta go. Call Isaac for a ride, okay?"

"Okay."

Derrick glanced back at her in surprise, but his stepsister just eyed him levelly. It was as if she knew exactly why he couldn't give her a ride, where he was going, and who he was meeting up with. He eyed her back to see if she displayed any anger at the arbitrary snub he might have accidentally committed by not bowing down and doing whatever she demanded at the drop of the hat. Instead, he was meeting her supposed arch-rival for a study date.

What? He didn't know. Girls got mad at shit like that.

But Massie's face was as blank as ever, which was actually kinda telling in itself, to be honest.

He huffed a laugh, before reaching over and nudging her chin, much to her annoyance. She slapped him away with another pout, already pulling out her cell phone to call Isaac, and he grinned, "I'll see you at home."

Massie ignored his goodbye, her phone already to her ear. He tossed her a careless salute before heading towards the parking lot and his car again, this time without her. Checking the time on his own phone, he muttered a curse before picking up speed. He didn't bother looking back.

.

 _claire_ ;

With her legs dangling free from a curved elevated mortar planter and her back against the faded brick walls of Westchester's historic downtown library, Claire had a clear view of the roiling clouds approaching from the West. Debating whether or not to pack up her book to protect it from the rain, Claire didn't hear Derrick's approach until he was almost next to her.

"Shit," he greeted breathlessly, "How late am I?"

"Pretty late," Claire told him, but looked up at him with a smile to show no hard feelings. She gave a small shrug and closed her book, before accepting his extended hand to help her up.

Derrick let her go and ran a hand through his messy hair. It was damp, and Claire realized that he had come as soon as he was able, right after practice, so she smiled up at him again and said, "Don't worry about it. This is all kinda my fault anyway."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Claire turned and pointed at the small sign on the double doors of the library entrance. It read _Closed for Renovations_. Claire had wanted to visit Westchester's historic library ever since she had arrived here from Florida. The only downside had been that it was so far away from school. Plus, she had wanted to go with Derrick. She had finally talked him into coming with her today to study. Only, she had forgotten to check the website before hopping on two buses and having Derrick drive all the way over here, and now the library was closed for the rest of the week.

"You've been sitting out here the whole time?"

She gave him a small shrug. "I had a book."

Derrick shot her an exasperated look, as if he didn't know what to do with her.

Claire couldn't help but giggle. She reached out to reassure him. "It's fine, Derrick, really. I'm just sorry you had to drive all the way over here."

"I can't believe you waited here by yourself the entire time," Derrick repeated, taking her bag from her and hiking it over his shoulder. He looked her over in concern. "Are you cold?"

Claire rolled her eyes at his worry, but let him take her bag without comment. "I was against the wall. I barely felt the wind."

But even as she spoke, they skies were opening up. Claire felt starting droplets of rain hit her light cardigan. Derrick didn't bother to respond to that, only holding out his Westchester Prep Eagles hoodie towards her. Claire shook her head firmly. She wasn't the one with already damp hair. Derrick sighed, but relented.

That was the thing that Claire liked most about him. He was earnest in trying hard to get to know her, but what she liked was that he never pushed her. He was genuinely trying to follow her terms. Everything they did was through her say so. If she said she didn't need his sweater, he trusted her decision.

She _knew_ he wanted something out of this though. He would probably never be hanging around with her everyday if he didn't, but he never made her uncomfortable.

But then again, maybe Claire should be giving him the benefit of the doubt. He had apologized for what he said the first day they met, something people had told her to not even consider, let alone expect, and then he had surprised her by showing that he had listened to her concerns about the school. And then _spoke out_ about it. She had decided then that he deserved a chance beyond the rumors that she had heard.

This past few weeks had given her the chance to see the person he really was without the armor she was sure he was wearing around school. She liked the way he was with her.

Plus, they surprisingly had the same sense of humor.

"Let's get out of here before it starts pouring," Derrick muttered, narrowing his eyes at her stubbornness.

Claire lifted her eyes and looked at him. "Where do you want to go?"

"You've been here since school got out. Are you hungry?"

She tilted her head to consider, and then nodded slowly. "A little," she admitted.

"Then let's grab a bite." Derrick tilted his head towards his car in the empty parking lot. The bright color stood out striking against the grey clouds overhead, but Claire hesitated. She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the rain that was building up. Her own hair was getting damp.

"Where at?"

"Xaviars' pretty good. It's close by."

Claire narrowed her own eyes at him this time. "Isn't that the famous tower restaurant near the Hudson?"

Derrick managed to look sheepish.

Claire shook her head. "We can't go like this," she told him firmly. Fancy places like that most likely had dress codes. She was in jeans and a cardigan, while Derrick was still partially dressed in his school uniform. They would both be soaked by the time they got there too. She would die of embarrassment if they were kicked out.

"Then… my place?"

Claire couldn't help glancing up at him in surprise.

"What?" Derrick faked offense. "Contrary to popular belief, Claire, I can cook. Don't give me that look. I make a _mean_ grilled cheese. No one else's after will ever compare. Trust me."

"Wow. Should I call NASA to see if they can spare someone to retrieve your ego from wherever galaxy it's currently at?"

Derrick cracked a grin at that. "Yeah, you can have them fetch my cooking skills too. Because it's—"

" _Don't_ ," Claire tried to cut him off.

"Out of this world," Derrick finished, pretending he hadn't heard her. Claire let out a groan of fond exasperation, but inside she was laughing. Derrick continued in a sing-song voice, " _And_ we can even work on Calc while I whip something up."

She had to smile back at that.

He wiggled his brows and nudged her arm. "It'll be warm."

Still, Claire hesitated. She couldn't help it. "I don't know… It's just… Will there be anyone home?"

He stopped and considered that. "I'm not sure… My parents are still away on their second honeymoon, but I don't know about Massie. She might be out."

Claire bit her lip, squeezing her book tightly, accidentally putting her silver promise ring into stark contrast against the black cover.

Derrick looked offended again. Only this time, it wasn't faked. Claire leaned back in surprise at the fire in his eyes. Claire was so used to his normally friendly eyes and teasing smiles that the anger threw her off for a moment. The contrast was jarring. "What? Claire, do you think I'm going to jump on you the moment we're alone or something? What kinda guy do you think I am?"

"No!" she denied vehemently. Even Claire blinked in surprise at her tone. She took a deep breath. "That's not—Of _course_ not."

Derrick still looked angry, and Claire didn't blame him. It sounded horrible. If there was one thing she had learned about him the past few weeks, it was that he was honest about what he wanted… and that deep down, he was a good person. He was her friend. He wouldn't trick her into getting her alone to pressure her. He didn't give her any time to find a way to word all of this to him though.

"Then why are you scared to be alone with me?"

He shot her a disgusted look. He didn't even bother waiting for an answer. He handed her back her bag and in her shock, she took it with a numb hand. It was almost pouring now, but Claire didn't even feel it. She pushed her wet hair away from her face and took a deep breath to explain, but Derrick ran a hand through his own hair, scoffed, and started to walk away into the rain.

The sight of his retreating back made anger build up in Claire's stomach. She couldn't believe how unfair he was being. He wasn't even letting her explain!

"You wanna know why?" she finally shouted at his back.

Derrick stopped, but didn't turn around.

She didn't want to say it. She didn't want to admit it, but it was the truth. It was the only thing that would make him realize that she was being honest with him. Claire forced the words through her suddenly dry throat.

"Because… because I don't trust _myself_ with you!"

The moment the words were out, Claire wanted to die. Derrick turned back around and looked at her in shock. Her face turned so hot she probably could have sped global warming up by a thousand years. She wouldn't be surprised if she was making steam on her cheeks against the cold rain.

"Claire…" he whispered, seeming to search for something.

Claire didn't look at him. Her eyes were firmly on ground, but he reached out and tilted her face up. A moment later and his lips were pressed against hers. Claire exhaled in surprise. The kiss was soft and slow and warm. He wasn't touching her anywhere, only her chin, but it was all the more jarring because of it. His hand was almost burning in its heat and when his thumb brushed against her skin, she shivered.

Claire couldn't help but keep her eyes open, watching him. His own eyes were closed and his lashes were so long Claire was jealous.

He pulled back slowly only a second later and looked at her intently. This time, Claire met his eyes, even though she was still in shock. She felt speechless. Everything had happened so fast, she wasn't even sure if it was all real. Derrick nudged her and caught her attention again.

"I'm not doing to do anything you're not ready for."

Claire left out a slow breath and nodded slowly, still in disbelief. She had to resist the urge to touch her lips.

"I know," she assured him finally.

Derrick grinned wickedly at her. His face was all sunny and Claire was relieved. She liked the crinkles around his eyes when he laughed a thousand times more than the way he looked at her earlier.

"So then… my place?"

Derrick's grin changed from something dirty to something playful and almost… sweet. Claire knew instantly that this was his usual play to get anything he wanted. She could tell that this was a smile that had coaxed extra dessert from his chefs, extra allowance money from his parents, and women into his bed. It was honestly effective. Claire wasn't going to let him get away with it though. _Nope_. Anytime he smiled like that, she was going to deny him just on principle.

"Derrick," she groaned, pushing him away, but there was a grin tugging at her own lips. She squinted at him, brushing away rain water from her eyes and face. "Alright. But… _only_ for grilled cheese!"

"Deal."

And this time, when he held out his soccer hoodie to her again, Claire accepted.

.

 _massie_ ;

Alicia's dulcet tones on speaker echoed around her bedroom as Massie stood in front of her mirror, considering her outfit for tomorrow. It was going to rain again, but Massie didn't want to whip out her winter coats so early in the season just yet. She'd have to make do with layers.

Fashion usually made her feel better, but for some reason, tonight it just wasn't working. She turned away from the mirror, dropping her clothes onto her floor and picked up her phone.

"You're not seriously considering this are you?" Alicia was going on. "I mean, I thought you were just trying to be make face."

"I wasn't," Massie told her firmly. She sighed a moment later, sitting down on her bed. "Look, Leesh. The Board wants a President as soon as possible, I need a President as soon as possible for Homecoming, and Claire wants to be President. It works out."

Alicia sighed too. "Homecoming is _next week_. Even _if_ Claire was President, she'd be nothing but a figurehead anyway. You're telling me you haven't already planned out every single event for the entire week already?"

Massie cracked a small smile at that. Alicia knew her too well.

"She's the best person for the job."

Her best friend scoffed. "Please. She's from Orlando, Florida. What would she know about how Westchester Prep works?"

"Why, Alicia… Are you jealous?" she asked coyly. Massie stood and paced the length of her room. For some reason, talking about Claire Lyons was making her anxious. She just couldn't sit still, but grimacing when she accidentally treaded on a limited edition personally tailored cashmere sweater, Massie forced herself to stop in place.

Her friend scoffed again, tuning her back into the conversation. "As if. I'm already head of the Welcoming Committee. That's enough for my transcripts. Any more extracurriculars and I won't have time for shopping."

Massie had to laugh at that. "Look, it's short notice, so Claire's perfect for the job. She has the experience."

"If you call a President of a backwater school of like, twelve people experience, sure."

She rolled her eyes. "The Board already approved. She's perfect for the new _image_ they're trying to portray." Compared to Becca, that is.

Becca had been elected by the Board because her dad was the Mayor of Westchester and looked how that turned out. A squeaky clean nobody from Florida flashing a purity ring on her finger as the new Student Council President was perfect to prove to the press that their school wasn't at all corrupted. Westchester Prep was pure as snow. See? Look at our Student Council President! And also that, no, of course Westchester Prep doesn't condone child pornography and sexual harassment. Becca wasn't removed from her post at all, she only stepped down to have more time and support from her family.

What a load of bull.

It was a joke. If everything wasn't going accordingly to her plan, Massie would rage at the sexism.

" _Ew_ ," Alicia shuddered. "It's weird to think about Dean Wiseman looking at pictures of his students."

Massie giggled in agreement.

"Still…" Alicia finally relented. "If they're going with clean… Even _I_ have to admit, Claire Lyons is perfect for the position. She's even cleaner than you. I checked. Everyone from here to Manhattan has heard of her purity vow by now. I heard that she was going to be interviewed by Seventeen. Deena told the entire class in Business Management that it was going to be a four page spread, but she was pulling it out of her ass. She shut up instantly when I asked her to source it—"

Massie was barely listening. Her stomach was churning now and she was breaking out in cold sweat.

She didn't even know why!

What was wrong with her?

So _what_ if Claire was perfect for the position of Student Body President? _Massie_ was the one that set that all up. Claire wouldn't even be in consideration if it wasn't for her. And so _what_ if everyone was up her ass just for being a virgin? What was so great about being a virgin anyway? Virginity wasn't even _real_. This was all so offensive Massie couldn't even…

"—but I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if it actually _was_ true, to be honest. I'll have to ask around, because that's totally something Seventeen would do. Right, Mass?" Alicia asked her.

Glancing around her mess of a room, Massie couldn't even stand to be in her own room anymore. Her normally pristine sanctuary had turned into an explosion of chaos. It was a mess of colors and fabrics and accessories that blurred her vision. Blinking rapidly didn't even clear it up. Massie hated when things were out of place. She had to leave. Get some air. Or something. _Anything_.

"Mass?"

After taking in a deep breath, Massie finally remembered to voice a short agreement. She stomped down her marble stairs. She could see from the glass windows in the corridor that it was raining outside, but right now, she was even desperate enough to deal with icy rain on her skin. It'd be like a refresher… Massie was desperate.

"Right, I'll double check. A _nyway_ , back to this whole president thing. Mass, are you _absolutely_ sure about this? I mean, President is a pretty big deal. Even if you're moderating. Today at lunch, I asked her about the perspective changes she went on about last week—you remember, right?—and she literally said mandatory drug tests. It was all I could do not to laugh in her face."

Just about to turn the corner to reach the backyard double doors to her coveted fresh air, Massie heard a loud laugh from the kitchen that definitely wasn't Derrick's. She whipped around.

Derrick had brought home some _girl_ when he should be focusing on _Claire_. It seemed like he needed a reminder about his goals.

Massie headed to the kitchen on a warpath, but stopped just outside when she realized it _was_ Claire.

What was she doing here?

" _Mass_?" Alicia snapped.

Massie backed against the wall to make sure that they couldn't see her. "Code red, Leesh. I have to go." She hit the END CALL button before her friend could respond and watched them for a while. Claire, dressed in skinny jeans and Derrick's soccer hoodie, was sitting at her breakfast table, math books spread out around her. She was holding a sandwich and still laughing her head off. Massie leaned over a bit and could see Derrick standing over their stove, flipping a grilled cheese over a pan, watching her with a smile on his face.

He might as well have a collar around his neck and his tongue hanging out because the look he was giving Claire literally said _I am your bitch_.

Clearing her face of all emotions, Massie didn't waste another second stepping into the room. She didn't even pause to check her hair. She had been home for while, but was in head to toe Chanel anyway.

"Hey!" she called out with a sweet smile. "Sorry! I didn't know anyone else was here."

Claire stopped laughing. After only a blink of surprise at her entrance, Derrick rolled his eyes and turned back to his cooking without responding, but Claire rallied and gave her sweet smile in return.

"Hey, Massie. Good to see you again."

Ugh, Claire was so sugary, Massie felt a toothache building. She had no idea about _anything_ , it was so _painful_.

For a second, Massie almost felt like she was doing her a favor. Showing her what the world was _really_ like. It wasn't all sugar and candy, sunshine and rainbows. It wasn't instant friends at a new school, cemented golden girl status, all the boys in the world panting after you all the time, or Presidential nominations handed to you on a platter. The world was nothing at all like what Claire was currently experiencing through rose tinted lenses.

The world cold and cruel and _dirty_.

It was rising one day and falling the next. It was plotting alone in your room for a new way—a bigger and better way—to make a serious comeback that could make or break you. It was constantly praying that your friends and your boyfriend who followed you at the top didn't think you were worthless at the bottom. It was endless meetings and campaigning and coming up with the best ideas to _earn_ the position at the top of the top. It was covering up your mistakes, controlling your vices, hiding your feelings, all just to get a real _shot_ in life.

It was sitting alone in Paris, surrounded by clear skies, cool air, beautiful clothes, decadent food, and still feeling like complete and utter _shit_ because your boyfriend ditched you for the person you wished you could be in another life.

Massie wanted to hurl.

Instead, she smiled again and leaned over the table to give Claire a hug in greeting.

"Sorry to interrupt. I didn't mean to bother you." Claire instantly opened her mouth to protest, but Massie continued before she could, "I was just going to make some hot chocolate. Want some? Low fat, I promise."

"Wow, sis," Derrick deadpanned before Claire could answer, crossing his arms. "What a generous offer."

"Well, you know me. I'm all about sharing," she replied, throwing a saccharine smile at him. His eyes narrowed at her. She spun back to Claire. "Speaking of sharing, I was planning on calling you tonight, but since you're right here, I can just give you the good news in person."

Claire furrowed her brows in confusion. "What news?"

"The Board and Council voted today and it was unanimous. Congratulations! You're the new Student Council President!"

Claire let out a loud squeal and jumped up, pulling Massie into an excited hug. But before Massie could even hug her back, Claire had released her, still laughing in delight, and pounced on Derrick. Her stepbrother let out a grunt and wrapped his arm around her, the other bracing himself on the counter so they didn't tumble to the ground together.

"Oh my god," the blonde was jabbering, her face buried in Derrick's shirt. "I can't _believe_ this. I didn't think I had a chance at all!"

Massie watched all this without saying anything.

She let go and turned back to Massie with bright eyes. Massie let her hands be taken and pulled into another hug. "Thank you so much for this chance, Massie! I know the Board appoints the position, but I know this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't put in a good word. I won't let you down, I promise! I'll make Westchester Prep the best it can be."

Massie laughed, waving her off. "Save it for your acceptance speech tomorrow after school. The Council's going to announce it officially tomorrow, four PM. Don't be late."

"I won't. I promise!" Claire told her, her eyes still shining in happiness. She turned to Derrick and her smile faltered a bit, as if she was realizing that this meant that she wouldn't be hanging out with Derrick again tomorrow. Her stepbrother seemed to notice her falter and reached out to ruffle her blonde hair. He smiled gently down at her and said, "Congrats. It's exactly what you wanted."

Massie was sure they would be hugging again if she wasn't standing right there. What the _fuck_ was going on? Why was Derrick looking at Claire like she was—

"Hot chocolate to celebrate then?" she interrupted. She couldn't help the hint of force in her tone. Claire turned back to her with quick nod of agreement, but Derrick eyed her impassively.

"Actually, we're out. Inez prepared the last of it yesterday, but I'm sure you have lot to do for Student Council anyway, preparing for Homecoming week. You're probably swamped. This time last year, I remember you were practically pulling your hair out." His eyes dared her to disagree. His tone literally told her _Get Lost_.

Yeah. Fucking. Right.

This was _her_ house too.

"Oh please," she thrilled with a sly grin. "You're exaggerating."

"Not by much," Derrick gritted out.

"I finished all the prep already. Nothing really left to do, but maybe Claire could tell me some of her—" She could barely get the words out before Derrick was cutting her off and telling her Claire could talk to her _and_ the entire Council tomorrow at their after school meeting. Barely a second later, he was strong arming her out of the kitchen and into their second living room. The door swung shit behind them.

"Let go of me!" Massie snapped. Derrick released her instantly.

"What are you playing at?" he snapped.

"What are _you_ playing at?" Massie hissed. She instantly regretted it. She sounded like a jealous girlfriend, but the entire situation was so preposterous she couldn't help it. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "You were supposed to sleep with her and _ruin_ her. What is she doing in our house?"

Derrick looked at her like she was crazy. Then he slowly said, "I told you. Claire's not like other girls. She's not going to just jump into bed with me. This has to play out a certain way."

Normally, her stepbrother was so easy to read, but Massie felt so out of her element she didn't know what to think. All the things she wanted to say suddenly felt wrong or embarrassing. Finally, she found words, "I didn't think you were going to _date_ her."

She couldn't believe this. That defeated the entire _purpose_.

Derrick stared at her in shock before he grinned, slowly. "Careful now. You're starting to sound a little jealous there, Block."

Massie made a face. "More like nauseated."

Her stepbrother stared at her for a longer moment, before his grin turned into a wicked smirk. Massie felt her stomach swoop at the sight. "Nope," he told her. "You're lying. Your left eye's twitching."

Massie gasped, her hand flying to her eye in horror. Her eye didn't twitch when she lied! That shit didn't happen in real life. That was _ridiculous_ , but her moment of instant panic told Derrick exactly what he wanted to think. He was acting like this was confirmation she was jealous!

Derrick reached over to swing an arm over her shoulder, but Massie ducked away from him, fighting the urge to throttle him. As if she was letting him touch her after, seeing him like that with Claire the same way only minutes ago. He still had that stupid smirk on his face. "Who said anything about _dating_? Look, just admit that you're jealous."

"As if," Massie scoffed. As if Massie would ever admit anything like that, even if she _was_. What would that gain her? "Stop before I hurl."

Derrick didn't even bother with a response. He knew that just _looking_ at her would get under her skin more than anything else he could say. And there was nothing, _she_ could say to get him to stop. He would think what he wanted to think, no matter what she said now.

"Get over yourself!" she huffed and whirled on her feet to stomp off.

"Oh, I am," Derrick assured her to her retreating back. His tone was so smarmy; Massie had to dig her nails into her arms to stop herself from turning back around and punching him in the face. He followed her to the staircase and laughed loudly as she stomped back up the stairs. "But it seems like you're not!"

"Fuck you!" she called down, leaning over the stair railing.

"Soon, babe!"

Massie slammed her bedroom door in response.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **note5:** i feel so immature writing this, but everything about the massie/derrick dynamics are all my favorite kinks (i have so much shit planned for this story) so i don't think i'll ever give this up. so even even if updates take 21654 more days, i promise i won't abandon this. you can count on that, at least. next chapter will prob have a little something dirty, so watch out LOL
> 
> thank you so much for all your reviews! reading them really encouraged me and helped me to get back into this story.
> 
> review if you like? xx


	7. that's my motherfucking words too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note1: thank you so much for all your reviews, you're the entire reason i reopen my word doc.
> 
> note2: i know i promised you all something dirty this chapter, but my writing just took on a life of its own. this chapter is all over the place, i'm so sorry. i didn't even bother with my outline; i'll try to get it back on track next chapter. i haven't had time all break to write, but hopefully this school year will be easier for me so i can devote more time to finishing all my WIPs. thanks again for your continued support. sorry my chapters just keep getting longer and longer!
> 
> note3: i'm just so glad to know that there are people still following this story. none of these characters are likable, but they're so much fun to write. i do separate POVs for a reason. what one character says and thinks is different from how another character perceives it. also, it shows you how oblivious derrick and massie are. and until this ch, i never realized we never had a claire analysis of massie! so here you go, hope you enjoy! i think you all know where this is going...

 

**that's my motherfucking words too**

.

 _claire_ ;

"…our new Student Council President, Claire Lyons!"

The entire Student Council was seated in a three waxy mahogany conference tables, pushed into an unfinished square, with a matching podium in the center. So when Claire stood up from her seat and walked over to where Massie was standing at the front of room, all eyes followed her. She had to fight down her nerves as she was once again in the center of attention.

The blonde should have been used to it. She had more than enough experience speaking in front of an audience and running meetings, but for some reason, being Student Council at Westchester Preparatory Academy seemed so much weightier.

The pressure was higher.

Westchester was more prominent, more important, more distinguished, and if Claire could really make a difference… It meant something. It meant _more_.

Motivated by this reminder, Claire felt all her nerves slip away as she switched places with Massie and looked out at the gathered members.

"Hi," she blurted with a giddy smile and everyone in the room laughed before greeting her back. She hadn't expected to make a speech, but as she stood in front of the room, the words just came to her. "I just want to say… thank you so much to all of you for giving me this opportunity."

Everyone gave her indulgent smiles, except for the Council Secretary, Liz Goldman, who was transcribing the meeting on her laptop, and Kristen Gregory, the Council Treasurer, who was frantically doing last minute calculations. Claire didn't _really_ mind, because everyone else was listening intently.

"I am so humbled by your confidence that I will be able to lead you all. I know I've only been here a few months, so I have a lot to learn. But that's why I hope that we can all work together as a group to effectively represent all of Westchester Prep. When I first heard I was nominated for this position, I compiled a list of changes that I wanted to see happen over the coming school year."

The indulgent smiles of her crowd turned into considering ones, but Claire plowed ahead.

"There was a lot," the blonde joked and the Council gave small laughs. Claire relaxed as the tension broke again. She smiled and continued, "So, I'd love to get your feedback, hear your ideas, and just find out all the ways you guys think I can better serve the school. I promise to give each comment and criticism the consideration it deserves. It's just not about what you or I can do. It's about representing the entire school and our community to the best of our abilities.

Together, we can make this school a better place. Thank you again for your support."

Massie was the first person to clap and the entire room joined her a moment later.

"Thank you, Claire," Massie beamed, her amber eyes glowing. "That was really inspiring." She glanced out at the room casually. "We're all really looking forward to hearing what you have planned, but unfortunately, because it's Homecoming Week, we really have to iron out the next few days. We'll bring it up again after the dance."

"Of course," Claire reassured her, fighting off the disappointment. She slid into the empty seat on the left reserved for the Council President. Massie had assured her that her name tag was ordered and would be delivered before the next meeting. She hadn't been expecting to make waves her very first day, but it was still disheartening.

There was so much that needed to be done.

Still, she guessed that Massie was right. She could wait a short week.

It _was_ the midst of Homecoming Week, so Claire settled down. Apparently, there was a lot to do and a lot to talk about. She had no idea what was involved in planning an entire week of events, but apparently, Homecoming Week, the parade on Friday, and the big soccer game right after were all a really big deal. The entire town, Westchester Prep alumni, the Mayor of Westchester, and the Governor of New York would be there.

This wasn't even including the Homecoming dance Saturday night. It was all Claire had been hearing about since she arrived. The events that occurred there and afterwards were legendary, according to the girls in her Creative Writing class. Glancing at Massie, the Student Body President, in charge of the entire affair, Claire felt relieved that she wasn't the one under all the pressure.

She wouldn't have even known where to start. That was what Claire really liked about Westchester Prep. Unlike her old school in Orlando, the duties of running a school were split between two heads. With Massie at the forefront of event planning and organizing fundraisers, Claire had so much more time to devote to actually making Westchester a better place.

"So, the past few days have been going so great," Massie praised and everyone in the room preened. "Dean Wiseman told me that not only is the WagMag covering the full story again, but Westchester Magazine and the Tattler will be as well!"

The room clapped excitedly, and Claire joined in, slowly.

"Since we have the rest of the week all set up and everything seems to be going better than planned, let's focus on the parade today. Any problems we need to address? Is everything ready?"

Liz, who had been typing quickly on her keyboard, finally looked up and cleared her throat rudely. She had been like that the whole meeting. Claire slowly realized that she had probably stepped on some toes. She had seen Liz hanging out with Becca before the girl had been 'asked' to take time off until the rumors surrounding the scandal cooled down. Liz must have been missing her friend and Claire replacing her so soon must have cemented that Becca might not be making a comeback.

Claire couldn't blame Liz for being cold towards her and Massie, who must have support her instatement. What had happened to Becca was horribly unfair.

"Well, I double checked with the Welcoming Committee rep today and all the floats are ready. Transports been arranged, but they'll be arriving a day early. Apparently, they're also booked for ADD's homecoming parade and that's the only time they can deliver," Liz intoed flatly, but quickly.

Several people on the Council scoffed in anger at the thought of Westchester Prep not being top priority and Claire raised her brows.

"Actually," Massie interrupted, making a quick note in her purple notebook. "That's probably better. The sooner they arrive, the more time we have to double check everything and get them in place. This guarantees no last minute traffic problems or delays. Give them directions to the spare field to keep them all out of site until time. Anything else? …No? Good. Now, what about the dance?"

"Mass?" Kristen spoke up, dropping her pen and shaking out her hand. "I just did the calculations. And I know we already confirmed and paid, but there's just no way we can actually afford Armin to DJ. The budget's going to be screwed for the rest of the year; we're going to have to put in two more fundraisers to keep our funds the way they were before. We have to go with our backup."

Alex Higgins, the junior rep, actually cried out in dismay at the thought of a second rate DJ. Other joined in instantly. Massie considered all of this for a moment.

"Make an announcement before the game. We can't afford a DJ and we're accepting donations. All the extra money, if we exceed, will go to Westchester's scholarship fund. I'm sure everyone in town and their parents will donate to the cause. Anything else?" she finally said and Claire was impressed and flattered. Weschester Prep only allowed three scholarship opportunities a year and Claire was one of them. More funds could go a really long way.

"Yeah," Kristen murmured, shuffling the notes in front of her. She glared at the room in annoyance. "Voting closes tomorrow and at least seven of you in here haven't submitted yet." There were curses and murmurs of apologies. "Whatever. I'll just take them here and submit them for you guys tomorrow." She dug in a gigantic binder and pulled out barcoded forms. She handed them to specific people around the room. Surprisingly, Massie accepted one with a sheepish smile too.

Then the other blonde turned to Claire and held one out to her. "Oh, and I still need to know your court nominations. You didn't submit it in time for the ballot. I'll just have to announce them at the game."

Claire accepted the form with a bewildered expression. "…Court nominations?"

She glanced down at the form and felt the world stop.

It was the Homecoming ballot and under the list of possible Homecoming Queens was the name _Claire Lyons_.

Claire's eyes almost bugged out of her head. "I'm… I'm no—nominated for _Homecoming Queen_?"

It came out as a high pitched squeak. Kristen looked at her like she was an idiot, then her face cleared and she laughed, "You didn't know?"

Claire couldn't speak. She was speechless. She was _floored_.

"That's explains why you haven't submitted your court nominations," Kristen said, accepting completed ballots from the other Council members and organizing them into her giant binder by name and ID number. She looked back up at Claire and grinned jokingly, "I forgive you."

Claire finally found the voice to speak in a pitch that wouldn't break glass. "What court nominations are you talking about?"

"We do things differently here in Westchester," Massie answered for her. Claire glanced up in surprise and flooded red in embarrassment. She hadn't realized other people could have been listening in on her surprise. It seemed like everyone except for her had already known she had been nominated. She turned her attention to Massie, who was still explaining. "Only seniors are nominated, but every nominee for King and Queen also nominates two other people in any grade on their ticket to round out the Homecoming Court."

"You were supposed to pick two other girls to run _with_ you," Kristen continued to explain. "But it's too late now; just make sure that they're there at the parade before three for the float and then on the field at halftime when we announce the winners."

"Oh…" Claire muttered, still feeling completely bewildered and overwhelmed. She couldn't believe this was happening. She'd only been at school for a month. She was new! How was she nominated for Homecoming Queen? And against… Claire glanced down at the ballot at the other nominees for Queen and their Court.

_Massie Block – Kristen Gregory & Dylan Marvil_

_Alicia Rivera – Olivia Ryan & Sadie Meltzer_

She swallowed heavily in surprise. Against the most popular girls in school!

Words couldn't explain the exclamation marks exploding in her head. Claire didn't understand this at all. She had never been nominated for anything like this in her entire life. Her old position as school president and now Student Council President had both been appointed to her and she had never cared about school events, Homecoming Courts, or Proms. She'd never been petty or shallow enough to even attend a dance, or even to _care_.

Homecoming and Prom nominations were all a glorified popularity contest. They added nothing of value to real society. It only served to make shallow people feel validated by other shallow people. Voicing those thoughts hadn't made her anymore well liked at her old school, but what did she care if people liked her or not? All she cared about was making a difference.

So to see her name printed on an official ballot for a dance she hadn't even been planning on going to was mind numbing.

She couldn't even think of what she did to be nominated. It… had to have been the Pretty Committee. Claire had scoffed when she had first heard of the superficial name, but she couldn't deny their influence now. All of the girls held influential positions in school and outside in their community, all running their own clubs and committees and participating in sports or cheerleading or dance. Dylan was actually Merri-Lee Marvil's daughter!

It… all led back to Kemp, didn't it? Everything seemed to. And Derrick Harrington. And the day Kristen invited her to sit at lunch with them. And Massie's support for her Student Council President appointment.

It all meant something.

But what?

Unlike what the rest of the Westchester thought, Claire wasn't _really_ part of the Pretty Committee. It must have look like she was, but she barely knew any of them. Kristen and Dylan barely spare her a glance at lunch. Alicia was pretty on the outside, but Claire could tell she was rotten on the inside. Massie was… nice, but there always seemed to be double meanings behind everything she said.

Her friendships with all of them were nothing like the close bonds she had with her friends, Sarah, Sari, and Mandy back in Florida. Everything in Westchester was so superficial, the friendships most of all.

Claire huffed in disbelief. The rumor mill here was out of control. People would believe anything.

But scoring a spot at that lunch table had landed her a Presidential appointment. She just never thought a Homecoming nomination was next. Accepting a pencil from Kristen, Claire tuned back into the real world. She spared a glance at the Homecoming King nominations and blinked.

_Kemp Hurley – Chris Plovert & Griffin Hastings_

_Derrick Harrington – Cam Fisher & Jake Shapiro_

_Josh Hotz – Dempsey Soloman & Geoff Micheals_

_Everyone_ at her lunch table was nominated for something. The blonde couldn't believe this. Was the school really that small? Kristen was urging her to hurry and submit her vote so they could get on with the meeting, so Claire quickly filled out the bubble next to her own name for the heck of it. She debated between Derrick and Kemp for a moment, before finally bubbling in the spot next to Derrick.

But the moment she handed her ballot to Kristen, she felt bad for snubbing both Massie and Kristen, who probably deserved her vote. It wasn't like she really cared about Homecoming. But then again, it really wasn't ethical that Kristen was in charge of submitting votes when she had a Court nomination, even if she was the Student Council Treasurer. That was also something Claire was going to change.

"Alright," Kristen said, placing everyone's ballots away in their proper places for submitting. She crossed people off her list. "There's still like, five people who haven't voted, but I'll find them before school ends Friday."

Massie called the meeting to back attention and Claire was once again overwhelmed by all the details involving making sure a dance went perfectly. Thank goodness she didn't have to really deal with all of this.

.

 _derrick_ ;

"Hurry up," Massie hissed at him as she slammed his passenger side door shut. She tossed boxes, Eagles gear, banners, and a megaphone into the back seat of his car haphazardly and Derrick scowled. "We're going to be late!"

He checked the time on his phone and scoffed. "No, we're not," he murmured, before tossing it back into his cup holder. Still, Massie was frazzled enough that he didn't tempt her barely restrained temper. He started the car.

"Maybe _you're_ not," Massie hissed at him again, slipping off her flats and tossing them into a shoebox and fishing for something in his backseat. "But I'm supposed to be there by now! Dean Wiseman's waiting for me to double check the floats. Everything's ruined if there's a safety violation. Plus, Livvy Collins was put in charge of decorating the stadium, which probably means I have to take everything down and replace it. The vendors are arriving soon and I need to be there to direct them. _And_ I haven't given the DJ the set list for today yet either. Not to mention—"

"Okay. You need to take a breath," Derrick told her firmly.

"Just _drive_ ," his stepsister huffed, glaring at him from the side, still reaching in his backseat. She pulled up a pair of navy slingback heels.

Derrick rolled his eyes, but he did pull out of their driveway.

"Oh, and you better be on the field by three thirty. We're not waiting if you're late."

Derrick slid his eyes from the road over to his stepsister, who was now wrangling with a pair of tights. He was momentarily distracted by the amount of thigh visible for his viewing pleasure. When he didn't respond, Massie huffed, "Are we going to have a problem, Derrick?"

"A problem with what?" he croaked, trying to keep his head in the game. He turned back to the road and made a quick motion. He had almost missed the next turn.

"Your car. I know how much you love to _show off_ , but you can't drive it in the parade this year. You're stuck on the stupid float with the rest of us."

"Are you going to hunt me down if I don't show up?" he asked, making another right turn.

Massie shot him a dirty look, before turning her attention to back to changing for the parade. "No, but Claire might," she said. She slipped on her heels and pulled down his car visor for a mirror to draw on her face paint. Derrick reached out and slapped the visor closed on her. No way was he letting her get paint on his custom leather seats. He ignored her furious glare and turned back to the road.

The blond's brow furrowed as he considered her statement. "You're going to have to be more specific."

He hadn't been thinking about Claire at all. Why would it matter to Claire whether or not—Ah. He got it. Derrick had accused Massie of being jealous the other day, and it seemed like she was still resentful. He'd thought it was just the stress of Homecoming Week, but it seemed like Massie was just being especially snippy to him for his teasing.

The realization almost made him grin.

"Oh right. I forgot you were slow sometimes," Massie remarked snidely and his grin broke free. He must have really rubbed her the wrong way for her to resort to petty, immature barbs at his intelligence. She had allowed him to get under her skin. Maybe she _was_ jealous? Derrick slid his eyes over to his stepsister again, prepared to give her a smarmy retort, just in time to see her snort from the back of her hand and toss her head back against his passenger seat headrest in relaxation.

"What the fuck?" Derrick removed one hand from the wheel, gripped her chin, and forced her to turn her head so he could get a good look at her. Her pupils were already dilating. "Did you just take a bump?"he demanded incredulously.

"Oh, like you aren't packing enough molly for the entire soccer team right now," Massie snapped back at him, but then she did a full one-eighty and giggled as her high kicked in.

"Yeah, for the after party," he replied angrily. _What the fuck?_ He slapped his hand against his steering wheel, fighting the urge to slap _her_. He couldn't believe her stupidity. "Aren't you meeting up with Wiseman? _Jesus_ , Block, think!"

"Oh, whatever," Massie told him, relaxing her head back again. "I needed this, okay? I've been running on two hours of sleep this entire _week_. If everyone wasn't _incompetent_ , I wouldn't have to—"

Derrick slammed on the brakes. Massie jolted forward, her seatbelt saving her from slamming her head against his car dashboard.

"Do you _hear_ yourself?" he demanded over her instant, offended cursing. He couldn't believe how nonchalant she was being about this. "I can't believe you. What's going to happen when you start tweaking out halfway during the parade?! If you think I'm going to take time away from my game to peel your coked-out ass off the floor again—"

"No one _asked_ you to do that!" Massie shouted back at him. Derrick forced himself to take a deep breath to clear away the red in his vision. He relaxed his tight grip on the wheel. Massie had a reason for being shrill. She was probably hitting her peak now, but Derrick had no excuse… but Massie's unremorseful, petulant face pushed away the last of his calm.

His vision of her sitting next to him now blurred with finding her in the country club coatroom floor, coked out of her mind, in a fit, blood pouring from her nose. He could still hear her stuttered pleas, incoherently begging him not to tell anyone, to not to let their parents know.

She wasn't even _sorry_.

"Kemp did," he hissed. His phone call to Derrick in the middle of practice had been frantic. Derrick almost hadn't called back, pissed that his friend had ditched again, but at the amount of calls, he finally picked up. A devious, zealous Massie Kemp could handle, but the moment shit got real, it was Derrick who had to deal the pickup and aftermath. Kemp, who Massie had proudly called 'the one', had been useless.

Derrick eyed the small bag of coke, partially hidden inside Massie's purse on his car floor and clenched his jaw. The fact that Kemp had _witnessed_ Massie's reaction firsthand just before summer break, and had still given her more…

The fact that Massie still took some _right in front of him_ after what happened last time…

It was an aggressive hit. In his face. With a chair. Made out of metal.

"People need a way to cope, you know. A brief respite. Not everyone has the privilege of being allowed to _fuck_ away all their problems," Massie sneered, brushing her hand across her nose again to clear away any evidence and Derrick clenched his jaw so hard it ached. "Just because you can't convince Kuh-Laire Lyons to give it up doesn't mean that everyone else is putting their life on hold. And Kemp won't be asking you tonight, will he? I don't _need_ you to take care of me, so unclench, Derrick, god."

Derrick finally turned away from her, easing his foot off the break and pressing hard on the gas. He couldn't believe he ever entertained the thought of Massie possibly being jealous. Massie was Ice Queen personified. Cold-hearted down to her core. She didn't have an emphatic-feeling bone in her body, and he should have realized that the moment he heard her bring it up casually to Kemp on the first day of school.

 _Massie_ didn't give a shit about any of the worry she had put him through, so why should he give a shit about _her_?

He always did this to himself. Even as children, Derrick had always strained to find ways to convince himself that Massie was more than she appeared. And she made it easy sometimes; everything about her was a contradiction. Her words always had double meanings, her actions bled hot to cold on him, her prissy charade at school melted into a freer devil-may-care attitude at home, and there were moments.

Moments where she seemed lonely or insecure or vulnerable. Moments where she needed him.

But everything about her was calculated, wasn't it? It must have all been manufactured to reel him back in. And Derrick falls for it; time and time again.

His stepsister rolled her head over to look at him when he didn't respond to her. The car fell silent, except for his harsh breathing. Derrick could feel her eyes burning into him as he pulled into Weschester's old town center and parked at the first spot he saw, all without saying a word. He made to pull his keys from his engine, when Massie's hand shot out and grabbed his.

He looked up, taking in the fast rise and fall of her chest and the way her eyelids fluttered. The moment his eyes met hers, she gave him a slow, wry smirk. "And just when I was thinking that you didn't give a shit about me anymore."

And there it was…

The contradiction; the push and the pull, the hot following the cold. Massie lashed out hard, but then the moment she realized her prey had reached their limits, she fell back, reached out, pretended to be helpless.

Derrick pulled his hand out of her grip. He didn't allow himself to forget.

Massie was a bitch. She'd never been helpless in her life. She didn't _allow_ herself to be.

"You thought right the first time," he told her, grabbing his keys. He pulled open his door and stepped out of his car. He _didn't_ give a shit.

Cancel his subscription. Derrick was over her issues.

.

 _massie_ ;

Massie stood on the edge of the soccer field, hidden between the stadium's wrought-iron gates and the rising chair-back bleachers, rubbing her arms to fight off the cold as the sun started to set across the field. Massie _had_ brought a sweater, but she didn't want to cover up her school spirit outfit until at least the Homecoming Court announcement, but she also didn't want to step out of the shadows and rough wind into the fading sunlight. Her coke was gone and her final comedown had hit her harder than ever, but she was still jittery as fuck.

Plus, it seemed like she wanted to torture herself. She couldn't stop watching Derrick and Claire on the other side of the field. Her stepbrother was already dressed for the game, but they were huddled close and talking quietly.

Massie rubbed at her chest roughly, missing her high. _Anything_ would be better than this feeling right now.

But what did she care what Claire and Derrick were doing anyway? If she was being honest with herself… Maybe it was because if Derrick really didn't give a shit about her, he wouldn't have any incentive to want to destroy Claire? Massie's skin rose in goosebumps at the horror of the thought.

Massie shook her head roughly. No way, Derrick was a skeeze. And a class A asshole. He would hit it and quit it and come to her to collect anyway. Even if he didn't care about her. He was just that type of person. He would want to win their bet. Even if he didn't want _her_ , he would want to beat her.

But Massie wouldn't give in. She had no intention of letting him win. He couldn't, because the moment he sent Claire crying back to Orlando with her tail between her legs was the moment _Massie_ won. The brunette watched Derrick tuck Claire's messy blonde hair behind her ear and forced herself to breathe through the ache in her chest.

"Here," someone spoke and Massie whipped around, her heart racing again.

But it was only Kemp.

Massie looked down and saw that he was offering her a white styrofoam cup. From the lack of logo, Massie could tell that he had just grabbed it off the drinks table for the players, but knowing he ex, he probably had it spiked with something. "No, thanks," she muttered, rubbing her arms again.

Kemp smiled slightly. As if he knew that she was only being stubborn. "You look like you need it," he explained, his hand still outstretched. "You're freezing."

Massie stared at the steam rising from the top of the hot coffee for so long that her vision started blurring again. She blinked rapidly and grudgingly accepted. "Alright, thanks," she murmured. She felt the warmth of the cup seeping into her hands the moment she took it.

"There! That wasn't so hard, was it?" Kemp tucked his hands into his soccer sweats over his uniform, and leaned against the bleacher railings next to her.

"I don't know. I might have sprained something," Massie joked slowly, taking a sip. The sharp taste of alcohol hit her tongue instantly. She knew she shouldn't drink when she was just coming down from a high, but it was already right in front of her. The come down was making her feel even more out of her element. It probably didn't help that she hadn't talked to Kemp on her own in ages.

The brunette turned to really look at him, only to find his attention across the field now. Massie slowly followed his line of vision over to Claire and Derrick. She watched as Claire turned around to shield herself from the wind, allowing both of them to see that she was still wearing Derrick's sweater, flashing his soccer number emblazoned brightly on her back, like a brand.

"Give it up, Kemp, they're dating." As much as it pained her to admit it. What the fuck was Derrick doing? What the fuck was he thinking?

And she wasn't wondering because she was jealous like he thought. She _wasn't_. She was confused, nauseated, _pissed_ , but not jealous. Massie hated being accused of being jealous. The thought of her coveting something someone else had was awful enough, but the idea that she didn't have the power to obtain it for herself was _worse_. Massie could get anything she set her mind to. She knew it in her heart, so nothing rubbed her wrong way like that word did.

Kemp brought her back to the topic at hand with a scoff. "Derrick doesn't date," he assured her. Massie shot him an annoyed look at his stupidity and he turned to consider her. "Except you," he amended with an ironic grin. "But that was years ago."

Massie took a sip of her drink quickly to stave off her temper and to avoid wasting perfectly good alcohol by throwing it Kemp's face. No, she was saving all her anger for people who deserved it more. Kemp, who had brought her something to warm her up, was off her shit-list, but only for the moment. She still hadn't forgotten how he had cast her aside for Claire this summer.

"I'm not into her," Kemp told her. He stepped closer and leaned over her, shielding the both of them from the wind beyond the railings and giving them privacy.

Massie laughed out loud before she could stop herself. She stared up at him in disbelief, "Please! I _just_ saw you pining for her. You're so hot for her; I could reheat my hot chocolate with your libido!"

"I'm not," he assured her again. Kemp shook his head slowly, watching her intently, and Massie stared back at him with raised brows. She didn't believe a word of it. "But I know what you're doing." Kemp reached over her head and grabbed at one of the bars holding up the stands. Massie didn't bother leaning away from him. He was warm, even at the distance they were standing at. "You think that you can scare her back to Florida by aiming Derrick at her, but it's not going to work."

Massie pursed her lips and drained the rest of her hot chocolate. She crushed the cup in her grip. "What makes you say that?"

"Claire's mom is working at Kori Geldman's law firm through my dad's recommendation."

Massie brushed her hair back from her face, knowing that her ex could read her confusion without her having to ask.

"They were childhood friends," he explained with a shrug.

Massie crossed her arms and snorted. "So, _what_? You're looking out for her?"

Kemp smirked. "Well, we _might_ become stepsiblings."

Massie's jaw dropped. "You're fucking joking."

"Nah," he told her, and laughed when Massie chucked her crumpled sytrofoam cup at him. It bounced off his chest and landed on the ground between their feet. Massie ran her hands through her wind-blown hair in frustration and watched as Kemp playfully started his warm-up on the bars right in front of her. Her eyes didn't even register the sight that would normally amuse her.

It seemed like every day she was getting further and further away from her chance to knock Claire off her pedestal.

It'd be harder than she thought to do it now if Kemp's name and reputation was attached to hers, officially.

"Doesn't mean you aren't still hard up for her," Massie retorted when she finally regained her equilibrium. Maybe she could work with this…

Kemp dropped down from where he was doing pull-ups in astonishment. He caught her drift immediately though, because he cast a glance back at Claire and Derrick across the field, but they were already gone. Derrick was probably starting his own warm-up and Claire was probably heading up to the stands for a seat. Kemp turned back and considered her for another moment. Her ex finally huffed out a laugh and shook his head at her, "You know, sometimes the way your mind works scares me."

Massie tilted her head and blinked up at him charmingly. "Only sometimes?"

"Maybe all the time," he admitted wryly. He peered out over at where the rest of his team was crowding around for the group warm-up and pep talk at one end of the field before turning back to her fondly, "We cool now, Mass?"

The brunette eyed him with her arms still crossed, taking in his lazy eyes, wide smile, and fading sun-kissed hair. Only Kemp would think that a hot drink two months too late excused him from her wrath. Still, in a round-a-bout way he _had_ been trying to help her by warning her off Claire. But knowing he was still waiting for an answer, Massie jokingly bared her teeth at him. "Not even close."

Kemp laughed, already walking backwards toward his team.

"Got a date for the Homecoming?" he threw out and Massie rolled her amber eyes. _Boys_. Did they not know that dates should be secured in advance? It could take weeks to find the perfect coordinating outfit. You couldn't ask someone the _day_ before!

" _Yes_ ," she snapped. "I'm taking Alicia."

"Then at least save me a dance," he called out as he jogged away. Massie turned away and headed towards the center of the field. Slowly climbing the steps to look for her friends or the rest of the Student Council, Massie fought down a smile. She might not be out to _destroy_ Kemp anymore, but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to let him off _too_ easy. Kemp, Claire, and now Derrick… they'd all get what was coming.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note4: yeeeeeah, everyone is fucked up in this. derrick and massie's fight was on 2 different wavelengths, lol. thanks again for reading! pls review, if you like!


	8. just let me motherfucking love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **note1** : this was written in two sittings, i'm just happy to finally be writing again. a note that some lines used in this chapter were taken from the movie or book. and i know there is a lot of misogyny (sometimes internalized) present in all the characters, but there's not much i can really do because that's their characters. so i'm sorry if you're tired of it, but it'll keep coming up because it affects the story line and how all the characters act. i hope i end up resolving it all in a way because i hated how katheryn was villainized and sebastian was washed out in the movie.
> 
>  **note2** : WARNING i finally earn my M rating. there is a smut scene. it's my first time writing cunnilingus, so if you're not into that, please click back now.

**just let me motherfucking love you**

.

 _massie_ ;

Massie sat in front of her vanity and ran her makeup brush over the tops of her cheekbones. It had been a long time since she had fully looked at herself in the mirror with the intention of honestly observing her looks. Massie rarely ever had to put effort into her daily routine, so at events where she was forced to, there was a noticeable difference.

Her mother had once called her features refined, but Massie had always thought she just looked mean and pale. Right now though, she thought her full face finally matched her eyes.

Her cheekbones were sharp from the contour and her lids shimmered every time she blinked. Her eyes were artfully smudged with kohl and her highlight glittered when she tilted her head. With her dramatic liner and false lashes, her amber eyes were vivid.

At best, Massie could be considered pretty, but tonight… she was striking.

So _why_ did she feel like complete shit?

Was it because for the first time in years, she was attending a dance without a date? She shook her head. No… that couldn't be it. Alicia was practically her date every time anyway. Was it because she was worried people wouldn't enjoy the theme she picked for the dance? No… that couldn't be it either because she had gone with the classic _A Night in the Stars_ , assuring all the girls in her class that any night dresses they picked wouldn't clash. Was it because only two hours before, Kristen had called to say that she and Claire Lyons were neck to neck for Homecoming Queen? No, that couldn't be it _either_ because Massie had never placed second for a popularity contest in her life.

Massie criticized her reflection in the mirror carefully. Maybe her mind was subliminally telling her something?

Was her liner uneven? Was her hair flat? Was her dress too frilly?

What was _wrong_ with her?

Massie swiped her hand across her vanity table in a fit of frustration, sending brushes scattering onto the floor and palettes clattering across her room. She had reached the point of fighting down actual tears, as she watched her highlight roll across her carpet. Her makeup came to a sudden stop at her stepbrother's dress shoes. Realizing Derrick would probably notice if she was upset, she quickly cast her eyes back to her reflection, avoiding eye contact as he stepped into her bedroom.

"What do you want?" she snapped. She willed the tears in her eyes to recede. She wondered if he could see. She wished he wasn't here, that he hadn't just witnessed her slip.

She enjoyed Derrick, but his presence was suddenly making her brain itch, her skin crawl, her pulse race.

For so long he had been her one constant, but everything her life was so unstable now. Nothing felt safe, nothing felt _right_.

Massie forced herself to shake it off. Whatever this feeling was, it needed to go. Derrick was her one familiar. If nothing else, his reactions could be depended on.

"Finally over your little temper tantrum?" she asked, sweeping her hair forward and standing up to face him. Derrick was dressed in dark blue tux, but sans vest or tie and Massie couldn't help but wonder if his date was going to be pissed he was dressed so casual he toed the line of being underdressed. The only sign that he had put any effort into his Homecoming look was that his hair was styled for once.

His body language was casual too, slouched against her doorway with his hands in his pockets, but his face, on the other hand, was dark with emotion. Like her, he didn't look at all excited for tonight. Derrick straightened up and entered her room slowly. Massie felt her confidence dip a bit when he finally slanted his eyes in her direction.

"Do you ever get tired of being such a bitch?"

Despite his harsh words, Massie decided to take it as banter. Banter, Massie could do.

She gave him a sly smile. "No. Do you ever get tired of being an asshole?"

Derrick reached over and swept her hair back over her shoulder, and Massie let him. She had been mad at him at first, but now she was just glad he was engaging her again. The silence from his part was almost weird. The longer Massie had time to think about it, the more she was slowly realizing that her stepbrother might be one of the only people in the world that she felt—

Derrick's mouth was suddenly on hers, kissing her hard and fast and furious.

Massie pushed at him instinctively, feeling like she had lost her footing somewhere and suddenly about to off an edge. Probably because she was literally tipping over in her heels. Derrick tugged her back to her feet by her wrists and Massie fought to push at him again.

"Get off!" she called, feeling almost dizzy from confusion.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" he murmured. One of his hands was curling into her hair and the other was wrapping around her waist, tugging and molding her pliant body into his. His mouth slanted back into hers. There was nothing romantic or gentle about it. Harsh, hungry, heated, she felt like he was devouring her whole.

Kissing him was so familiar Massie's head was swimming. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. Her brain couldn't seem to find traction long enough to come to a decision. It couldn't even complete a thought. A part of her brain was screaming at her to push him away, but her body wasn't moving. She was still fighting with herself when Derrick moved away from her lips, which a part of her brain thought was disappointing, but then he moved to her neck, which another part of her body thought was gratifying.

Or was it? It definitely wasn't supposed to be… _Right_?

"What do you think you're doing?" she finally rasped out loud, as stepbrother nuzzled her neck in a decidedly sensual way.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do I need to draw you a picture?" he asked, breath sweeping against her sensitive neck. His fingers were ghosting under her dress, gliding up her thighs and sliding upwards. He pushed her back against her bedroom wall and pressed his body up against hers, allowing her to feel his erection.

She gasped.

The heat of his body pulled back and the expression on his face was dark again. He looked pissed, but his body couldn't lie. His eyes were full of outright desire. His hands gripped a fistful of the bottom of her dressed and lifted. Massie barely had a second to process this before his hot mouth was back on her neck, and when she tried to protest, he bit down.

Massie hissed, not at the pain because she kind of liked it, but from the tremor that rocked through her sex at the feeling.

"Don't worry. This… This won't count towards the bet. It won't go that far. It won't mean anything," Derrick assured her.

Massie's stomach swooped.

"Wow. Just what every girl wants to hear," she replied bitterly.

Derrick didn't respond, his fingers skimming her hip under her dress. He paused for a second as if his own words had just hit him, but then his fingers slid unashamedly into her panties, all the way up to her burning center.

Kissing him was familiar because she had done it before back in middle school, but this definitely _wasn't_.

Massie sucked in a breath when he brushed against her wet heat. He must have taken it as a confirmation of her desire, because the very next moment, he was pushing up more of her dress and sinking to his knees. The air was cold against her exposed thighs as Massie gave in and held up her dress for him. His fingers hooked under her panties and dragged them down.

Massie kicked them away and moaned when his fingers parted her.

She bit her lip to prevent any more noises when he leaned forward and _licked_. His tongue stroked and massaged her, causing her hands to clench against the layers of her dress, her fingers itching for a better grip on something. Heat was swelling and expanding in her chest, strangling her and traveling down towards her core.

Her legs felt weak, but Derrick still hadn't touched her.

He looked up at her and smirked. "Ask nicely, Block."

"Fuck you, Derrick."

It wasn't asking and it wasn't nice. Not even close, but Massie had never had to ask for anything in her life. And if she did, she wouldn't have done it _nicely_ either. Neither of them had ever been nice in their life. What was the point?

Derrick slipped a finger inside her and Massie couldn't fight the gasp of pleasure that escaped.

"You might want to hold onto something," he told her, and Massie almost laughed, but then he licked all the way to the center of her core. She couldn't help rolling her hips. He kissed her there with the same intensity he kissed her with earlier, like she was the antidote to the poison coursing through his veins, the only cure to his personal disease.

She reached down and tugged on his hair, but Derrick was gripping her thighs and holding her legs apart as his tongue ran around her center. His hands held her in place and Massie couldn't help but whimper. He explored her core before sliding up to her clit and Massie couldn't help her sharp cry.

She lost her coherency, her vision, and all her breath in one fell swoop.

Her back arched and her breath came out in short, uneven pants. He circled her clit once, twice, three times, and she was begging.

Her entire body was buzzing, craving, _reaching_. Derrick teased her, gripping her legs and nipping her thighs. He pushed his fingers deep inside her and _curled_ them. Then, he sucked her clit into his mouth, rolling her sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips and flicking with his tongue.

Massie's entire body went tight, pleasure spiking sharp and startling, almost _electric_.

For one heart stopping moment, everything went dark as her orgasm rushed through her. The whole thing had only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like hours as a wave of pleasure after the next ran through her. Her vision came back slowly, whiting out her bedroom with a hazy quality as she finally quieted and her body slowly relaxed.

Orgasms. The only thing better than a committing verbal slap down in public, than standing in front of a stadium full of people and accepting her position as Student Body President, than a bump of cocaine and the rush of a high.

She was still trembling when Derrick pressed one last kiss to her center and raised his head to look her in the eye.

She was still fighting to catch her breath when his eyes met hers. Despite the intensity in his eyes, Derrick looked calm and composed, almost completely distant. It suddenly occurred to Massie that she had underestimated him.

He was _good_.

He was really good. The rush of confusion was suddenly back.

Derrick had been her one familiar constant and now she felt like she couldn't predict him at all.

Like she couldn't predict _anything_ at all anymore.

Massie swallowed, feeling vulnerable and weak. Derrick was the one on his knees, but _she_ was the one that was feeling like she wasn't holding all the cards anymore. Like she had just lost whatever twisted games they had been playing. Like suddenly, she wasn't the one with power anymore.

Derrick helped her pull her dress back down and helped her smooth it out. He stood up and kissed her slowly on the mouth. It took her a second, because she was still on autopilot, to kiss him back. Everything about this was so confusing, it didn't even occur to her to protest.

"My turn," he whispered.

He was reaching to take off his jacket when it happened. The front doorbell rang through the entire house loudly, shocking Massie back to her senses.

Without another word, she pushed him away and turned towards her vanity mirror. Her face was flushed, but her makeup was still flawless. Her lips were swollen, but she hadn't applied any lipstick yet, so there weren't any smudges to fix. The only thing mussed was her hair, which was easily fixed as she ran her fingers through her curls and then against her scalp for volume.

"Are you kidding me?" Derrick snapped.

"It's _Alicia_ ," Massie snapped back. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

At her words, Derrick seemed to snap back to his senses too, but he didn't move to straighten out his formal jacket or to fix his hair. Massie met his eyes in the mirror and seemed to flounder. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he _want_ Alicia to blab to the entire school about what had possibly happened between them?

What _had_ happened between them?

Derrick had come on to her out of nowhere and reduced her to this… trembling, struggling mess. She hesitated to even look him in the eyes. She had never felt more unsure of herself in her entire life.

Massie had been teasing Derrick like this since they first started their games, but he had never taken her up on her invitations. He knew he wasn't allowed to. He had never dared. There was a line they weren't allowed to cross, but nothing fit into what she planned or expected or wanted anymore.

It had all started this summer, with a vacation alone in Paris, anxiety and loneliness tingeing her view of the streets and landmarks dark. It started with Kemp Hurley dumping her for someone nice, someone _pure_. It started with Becca Wilder, sending the school into a panic and the reelection of a new Student Council President of someone _clean_. It started with Derrick Harrington, her stepbrother and usual partner in crime, doing what she asked, but nothing in the way she wanted. It started all the way back at the start of her awakening, back when she first figured out the way the world worked, where she realized society would always prefer girls like Claire Lyons to girls like Massie Block.

It all started _and_ ended with Claire Lyons.

Nothing was right anymore.

She had to _make_ it right.

Alicia could wait. Massie's eyes flashed up and met Derrick's in the mirror. "Have you slept with her yet?"

The heat in his eyes intensified. Massie didn't know what to make of that.

"No," he answered.

Massie hadn't even known she had been holding her breath until she was letting it out in relief. That was what she expected, what she wanted. This she could work with. Tease him, fuck with him, deny him. This was what Massie _thrived_ on.

She knew exactly how to handle guys like that because she already knew exactly how they'd react. Maybe that was why Derrick had tried to pull something with her? Maybe he had thought she would say no? Did he know what she'd do and what she'd say? Could he have seen through her act?

Normally, Massie hedged her bets. Because you deny a guy once and suddenly, you were a bitch and a tease. Next to the word slut, those were the most common words for a woman to hear, and the easiest to earn. And when you were called a slut enough times, you learned to _own_ your pleasure to beat them at their own game. Massie wasn't afraid of giving in to her desires. She was only afraid of giving in to another's.

But this was quid pro quo, she got what she wanted and he got his. Even stakes. No winners, but definitely a loser: Claire.

Massie tugged her hair over her shoulder to cover up his mark and smirked slowly, "It sucks to suck, doesn't it? I don't reward incompetence. I'm not touching you until I get _proof_. And if you can't pull it off… Well…"

At her response, Derrick finally straightened up. He looked conflicted for a moment as he wracked his hand through his mussed hair.

"She's falling for me," he admitted to her.

Massie slowly picked up her lipstick and tucked it into her Chloé clutch for reapplication later.

"Oh, Derrick," she sighed. "She's not."

Massie couldn't help shaking her head. Her ex had been with many girls, but he was still so clueless. Didn't he know girls like Claire weren't in love if they refused to give it up? Girls in love no longer have a will of their own. They sacrifice it all, to their lover.

"She'd be sleeping with you if she was. You might have conquered her love of God, but you still have to overcome her fear of the _Devil_."

Derrick was looking at her again, and this time there was meaning in it. Suddenly, he was looking at her like he didn't recognize her at all. His eyes burned into her as though they were searching her, trying to read her, but Massie didn't let him. She wanted to get things back to the way it was before. And Derrick searching her person and not her body _wasn't_ the way it was before. She gripped her clutch and stood up, making her way out of her bedroom to where Alicia was waiting.

"We're done some pretty fucked up shit in our time, Block. But this… we're destroying an innocent girl. You do realize that, don't you?"

Massie whipped around to face him, furious.

"Kemp Hurley," she snapped, and in her head, she added Becca Wilder, Claire Lyons, Derrick himself to her tally, "is going down and if you're not going to help me, someone else will."

Derrick stared at her for a shock for a moment before his eyes narrowed and he started after her. Massie wasn't staying around for him to continue condemning her. She swung back around and padded down her hallway, heading for their main staircase. She couldn't stop herself from ranting though.

"Fuck you, Harrington. Do you think I'm not _tired_ of having to act like Taylor fucking Swift all the time to be considered proper? Do you think that I don't realize it's not Claire I hate, but everything she represents, and that I'm a terrible person for gunning for her anyway? Do you think I don't _know_ I'm a bitch? Because I do. I know all that. You can't hurt a girl by calling her things she's already heard a thousand times a day by society."

So yeah, sure. Massie was a bitch, but Derrick was an asshole. He was a _thousand_ times worse than her. So _why_ was he suddenly feeling remorse?

"You act like this is somehow any different for anything you've done in the past, but it's not. Guys would sleep with anything that moved, and when the girls aren't so sure… they convince them. You've done it too." Derrick looked ready to argue her words and was already fishing for a rebuttal, but Massie pushed forward, correcting herself, but refusing to let him get a word in. "Maybe not with a _relationship_ , but with words, with trinkets, and with their own desire. So, _there's_ your condemnation, Derrick. A condemnation to all the assholes out there. You talk girls into sleeping with you all the time, with false promises and declarations and all for your reputation. And you don't even treasure any of it, you share it with the entire world for sport. You've done it all your life. So, how is what you're doing with Claire _any_ worse?"

Derrick looked stricken.

"It's not," he admitted, sounding resigned.

Massie nodded decisively, stopping just before she reached their front door, where Alicia was waiting for her outside.

"Exactly. So, tell me now, are you _in_ or do you _forfeit_?"

Derrick didn't say anything for a while, and Massie felt her stomach swoop again. There was a heart stopping moment where Massie thought Derrick was going to say no to her, but then he sighed, his mouth quirking up, and his body posture relaxed into the devil-may-care attitude he always exuded. She hadn't even noticed how strung up he had been all week until she was looking at him relaxing now.

"Fine. I'm in."

Massie felt her heart skip once and couldn't fight the relief that flooded her entire body. Derrick was staring at her with that wicked look in his eyes again and she hadn't even known she had missed it until now. _There_ was her constant. She knew he would be on her side. Derrick was the only person who knew exactly who she was, the type of person she was, what she was capable of, so he didn't bother trying to dissect her or to change her. She had hated the way he looked at her earlier, like he had hadn't known her at all, but Derrick was the _one_ person who wasn't afraid of her and she wasn't sure what kind of person she'd be if that ever changed.

Out of everyone, Derrick allowed her to be herself.

So she shrugged off the lingering worry and smiled.

"Good," she purred, helping him finally straighten back out his formal jacket. He was lucky she would never be his date, because she would have hated that he was so blasé about a formal event. But from another standpoint, she liked how careless he looked, wild and free and untamable. A look she could have never dared to pull off herself.

She met his caramel eyes and nodded. "Fuck Claire Lyons. Cement your reputation. Destroy her. Win our bet... and win _me_."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **note3** : an all massie pov this time, so lots of confusion and angst and bitchiness. i purposely set it up so you won't be able to see derrick's pov and what he's thinking until the next chapter, so stay tuned. thanks for all your encouraging reviews they keep my spirits up. xx
> 
>  **note4** : pls review if you like or i might never work up the courage to post another chapter again lol


	9. listen ma i'll give you all i got

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **note1** : this chapter is unedited, because i figured you guys have been waiting long enough for an update. i'll come back to it soon.  
>  **note2** : this one is a whopper! all the povs this time [evil laughter] and i think it covers enough of homecoming to satisfy you.

**listen ma i'll give you all i got**

.

 _claire_ ;

There was a sharp intake of air.

"Wow."

Feeling almost relieved at the awed look on Derrick's face, Claire finally stopped tugging on the yellow tulle of her skirt and let it flutter around her thighs. She couldn't stop her smile from tugging up the corner of her mouth at the sight of Derrick leaning against his car on her driveway. In his hands was a clear glass container, holding her Homecoming corsage.

Derrick stilled seemed speechless, so she peeked up at him from the bottom of her lashes.

"Is… this going to be a problem?" she asked.

"For me it is," he replied, taking her hand. "You look beautiful."

Claire couldn't stop smile from breaking out on her face when he slid her corsage on her wrist. It contained three yellow hydrangea flowers, accentuated with white pearl sprays and decorated with long trailing blue ribbons that matched Derrick's own suit.

"Thank you," she told him, admiring the complimentary colors.

Derrick's thumb ran across her wrist as he looked at her. She watched him for a moment before the silence became too heavy for her. She had to speak up. "Is everything alright?"

Finally, he nodded, and then seemed to try for a smile to placate her. "Yeah, everything's fine. Let's go."

Claire didn't like his silence and was already looking for a way to break it. Derrick was only just pulling out of her driveway when his phone pinged. She watched with apprehension as he fished it out of his inner tux jacket and read who it was from. She was uncomfortable with him looking at phone and driving, despite still being in her neighborhood, so she reached over to tug it out of his hands.

Derrick was surprised, but he didn't let go of his phone, and Claire's curiosity got the better of her.

"You shouldn't text and drive," she teased, still holding on.

Derrick seemed to meet her eyes for a long time, and Claire felt the pressure of his gaze this time, as if he was considering her. For a moment, Claire almost thought he wouldn't let go, but then he released his phone into her hands. He returned his own hands to the wheel and his attention on the road.

Claire clicked on his phone so that it lit up again and saw that it was a text message.

"It's from your dad," she told him. Derrick had never mentioned his parents to her before, so she suddenly felt like she was invading his privacy. She realized now why he had been so reluctant to hand her his phone. She bit her lip and turned to look at him. "Do you want me to read it to you?"

Derrick grunted, which wasn't really an answer.

She watched as he signaled to make a traffic-heavy turn out of her neighborhood.

Claire tapped on the message, but his phone was locked. Not wanting to outright ask for his password, Claire placed the phone down on her lap. She only glanced at it again when it vibrated a few more times in rapid succession.

"I think he's trying to get a hold of you," she told him.

Derrick stayed focused on the road, and for a moment, Claire thought he hadn't heard her over the light music on the radio, until he finally scoffed. "If he wanted to get a hold of me, he would do more than send a few texts." At her look of confusion, Derrick explained, "I haven't talked to him since the beginning of summer."

Claire's brow furrowed. She couldn't imagine not keeping in contact with her parents. Her parents might have been having problems, but they still kept in constant contact with her. Feeling discomfited from his response, she finally asked, "You don't get along with your dad?"

Derrick was silent for another long moment, before he finally said, "Got along without him."

Sympathy welled up inside her chest and threatened to overflow.

"What do you mean?" she asked for clarification.

"I mean, that if they gave awards out for absentee parent of the year, my dad would win every time, _and_ he'd be too busy to show up to collect," Derrick joked with a hollow laugh.

Claire didn't know what she hated more. His words or the fact that he tried to play off that it didn't bother him in the least.

"Don't," she snapped, before he could crack another joke. She couldn't even _imagine_ a world without her father in it. Jay Lyons was everything to her, and her parent's recent divorce had altered everything about her world. She didn't like to think about the fact that their problems might be unsolvable. Hearing Derrick talk about his own parents like that made her both mad and sad. Both for him and for _herself_.

"Don't what?" Derrick asked her, interrupting her turbulent thoughts.

She forced herself to take a deep breath.

"Don't act like you don't care," she finally said, "when you do."

Maybe it was the way she said it gently, instead of snapping at him again. Or maybe it was the way her own pain revealed itself in her tone, but Derrick didn't lash out at her. Even though Claire thought he would have every right to after she had basically called him out.

At Derrick's dark silence, Claire swallowed and forced her feelings out into words. "They're your parents," she told him gently. "It's okay to feel hurt. You don't have to always hide how you're feeling behind that mask."

It was advice to herself, as much as it was also for Derrick.

Maybe she was heading too much into uncomfortable territory. Maybe she was being too honest too soon. But after all the time they spent together, inside and outside of school, in public and in private, Claire thought that she had a pretty clear idea of who Derrick was and what he had to represent.

There were sides of him. Different ones that he showed the world and the ones he revealed when he was with her. And the way he joked around about his father just felt off to her. It was obvious that it affected him, and she hated that he was forced to play it off in front of _her_. If he couldn't be honest with her, how could he be honest with himself?

She hoped that he could, because that meant maybe she could be with her own parents as well.

Derrick took a deep breath and Claire glanced up at him.

"You're right," Derrick finally admitted, surprising her. She almost did a double take. She hadn't expected him to admit it.

"They're my parents," he told her simply when he saw her looking. "Of course I care."

Feeling heartfelt warmth blossom in her chest at his acceptance, Claire reached over and laid her hand over his. He stiffened for a moment before he consciously relaxed.

"Is there anyone in your family that's there for you?" she asked, thinking of her younger brother. Todd was back in Orlando, yet he still remained her lifeline as the only other person to understand what she was going through, if only because he was also going through the same thing.

Derrick seemed to be fighting down a scoff, but he didn't say anything. Probably out of respect for her feelings again. She found that she _liked_ that he didn't want to upset her.

"Not even Massie?" she asked tentatively, trying to fight down her bubbling curiosity.

It wasn't working.

Derrick Harrington. Massie Block. Two names; constantly spoken of, almost always together too—and Claire could even understand why. The student body president and the captain of their championship winning soccer team were bound to be talked about and heard of at their small private school. But the thing was… whenever Claire heard one name from a gossiper's lips, the other would inevitably follow. It was like people couldn't even _talk_ about them without relating them to the other. On top of that, everything she had ever heard about them was conflicting too.

She had heard they hated each other, but also that they were actually close friends. She had heard that they were barely able to coexist together in one household, but also that they had _dated_ in the past.

Which she thought had to be wrong, because they _lived_ together now.

But she hadn't noticed anything untoward between the two of them. They interacted like a cross between maybe friends and actual stepsiblings when they were together in front of her.

But whenever she brought Massie up in front of Derrick, he always seemed to be closed off.

She didn't know why. And in turn, it made her almost obsessed. She was constantly fishing, but nothing she heard or saw made sense. She wanted to know _more_. About Derrick. About Massie. About the both of them.

This was her chance.

"…unless your parents are there for Massie?" she asked, hoping that it'd spur him into opening up again.

Derrick shook his head and Claire was disappointed he didn't say more. However, when they stopped at a red light, he turned to her again and continued their conversation, "Let's just say growing up Massie's mom held a certain view on physical affection."

Claire raised her eyebrows in question.

"It'd wrinkle her perfectly pressed pantsuits."

Her jaw dropped.

"That's awful," she muttered. It was Derrick's way of brushing things off again. He always presented this act, always saying things lightheartedly, joking around, and acting like nothing could bother him. When it was obvious it did. She _hated_ it.

But she didn't focus on that; instead she focused back on Massie's behavior. It seemed she and Derrick were both the same way. Only instead of goofing off, Massie acted impervious. But unlike Derrick, maybe she really _was_ that way.

"Is that why Massie's the way she is?" she finally asked, tapping her finger against her chin.

Derrick laughed. It was his turn to raise his brows. "What? Uppity? Uptight?"

No, that wasn't it, but Claire struggled to put it into words.

"Self assured," she finally decided to say.

"That's just a persona." Derrick's words were bitter, but then, he always seemed bitter whenever she brought Massie up. He wasn't looking at her again. His attention was back on the road. "Don't tell me you bought into it too."

He almost sounded disappointed, and it rubbed Claire the wrong way. She bristled, but Derrick continued before she could say anything.

"Look, you don't know the real Massie. No one really does. She might _seem_ really self possessed, but that's the thing. She overestimates herself. Her ability to control."

Claire had a hard time listening to his clear-cut analysis. This was his own stepsister, and also the girl that had done so much for Claire since she had arrived in Westchester, but she also didn't stop him. She couldn't seem to _want_ to stop him. It seemed that she was more curious than she thought.

"Block's... like a driver, but one who enjoys driving recklessly between boulders and around cliffs. But only for the purpose of saying that she did it, did it effortlessly, and that she came out if it perfectly fine. And then she uses that reason as justification to keep going, to keep _doing_ —"

Derrick cut himself off abruptly, but Claire didn't even notice. She was still stuck on that analogy. She couldn't figure out what to say in response. It was almost too deep for her.

"Some people would even praise her for something like that," Derrick murmured, tightening his hands on the wheel. He said it softly, but Claire could tell he was upset. "Or commend her, whatever, but you shouldn't follow her blindly for that."

Claire stopped herself from protesting, if only because Derrick was sort of right. She _had_ admired certain things about Massie, and about Derrick, and about Westchester. Probably blindly. How much did she really know about the real Massie or the real Derrick?

Did she even want to find out?

Still, she… shouldn't have pried into things that Derrick didn't want to talk about, but she was also surprised at how well he seemed to know Massie, and how well he seemed to put her personality into words. She stared at him for a moment, but he seemed to be lost in thought now too.

"She actually agrees with your views, and she hates herself for it."

Claire blinked, but Derrick must have thought he had said too much, because he was quiet after that.

She couldn't help herself, she had to say something. "I knew—I mean, I could figure. That what I see probably isn't what's real." Derrick didn't seem to believe her and it pissed her off. So she elaborated, "Because _everyone_ in Westchester seems to have a persona. Including you, Derrick. You even admitted to it yourself, and I just can't understand it. Why can't people just be _true_ to themselves?"

"Not everyone has that luxury," Derrick stated. Like it was fact. Like that was it. End of story.

He shifted his car into park and made to exit. They had arrived at the event hall. Claire felt her lower lip tremble, a sign that the entire conversation and its abrupt end was getting to her. They were finally here, finally parked, finally out of the car, but it meant that this was probably the end of this topic forever.

And she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't let that be it.

Claire allowed Derrick to open the passenger door for her. She stepped out and looked around. There were plenty of people milling around outside, elegantly dressed and lining up to head into the ballroom—that could probably see them—but Claire didn't care. She didn't care at all about anyone else or what they might say.

She reached over and grasped at Derrick's hand again. He looked down at her in surprise.

"You can have that luxury," she whispered, "with me. You can be yourself with me."

Derrick seemed to struggle for a moment. He must have never received an offer like that before. He stared at her for a moment, with something like incredulity, before he lifted his hand and interlocked their fingers.

"You don't have a disingenuous done in your body, do you?" he asked, seemingly in disbelief.

Claire tilted her head in confusion. Why would she be insincere about this? At her look, Derrick let out a chuckle that slowly turned into a laugh. The same one she liked so much, the one that made his caramel eyes crinkle and her belly warm.

Before she could ask if he was laughing _at_ her, he leaned down and kissed her.

She was surprised again, but the smell of the fresh grass on the lawn, the glow of the old-fashioned Paris street lights above them, and the chattering of the crowd of students in front of them all faded away. Until all that was left was the feeling of Derrick's lips on hers.

She wanted to commit this to memory. The way that he had looked at her in awe at her words, the way he tasted on her own lips, and the way he made her feel, kissing her in front of a giant crowd of people from their private school.

She fought down the sudden balloon of happiness rising in her chest.

Because now, everybody would know that Derrick Harrington didn't have to hide when he was with Claire Lyons.

.

 _massie_ ;

"Everything looks _sooo_ amazing, Massie," Alex Higgins and her junior posse gushed.

Massie barely spared the girls a smile before breezing past them towards her table. After being forced to make one last review of the entire ballroom with Dean Wiseman and the hired event coordinator to fix all the mistakes her incompetent classmates made, Massie was in no mood for empty babble.

She had missed making a big entrance with her girlfriends, and even the sight of students entering the decorated ballroom, freezing in their tracks, and gasping in delight at her theme and decorations, didn't cheer her up.

Massie swatted away one of the string fairy lights in her line of sight. Visually appealing, but annoying. She almost regretted them as she headed towards the nominee's table. Finally reaching them, she slid down into one of the padded dining chairs of the head table, draped elegantly in white silk, with an inaudible sigh of relief. Her cocaine high was the literally the only reason she wasn't itching to kick off her strappy heels and lay down for a nap.

But no, there was business to take care of.

"Well?" she asked, turning to Kristen. As one of her running mates, the blonde was seated on her immediate left and flipping through the Homecoming ballots. "What's the verdict?"

It wasn't exactly protocol, but nobody was around to care.

Kristen was murmuring under her breath, counting it all in her head. Finally, after only a beat, she tossed the ballots into the middle of the table, scattering them everywhere. "Claire Lyons," she reported.

Dylan, seated next to Kristen, hissed when a stack almost knocked over her drink.

"Impossible," the redhead snapped, tossing back her drink. She placed her glass down and lifted up a few of the ballots to take a closer look. "It's me, you, _and_ Massie all on one ballot."

"Ex- _cuse_ me," Alicia, seated next to her, fired back. "It's all Sadie Meltzer's fault I have so little votes. Like I would ever voluntarily _chose_ to run with Wire Hair. It's PC tradition to put the girl who presents me with the juiciest piece of gossip on my ballot."

Kemp Hurley, seated across from them, laugh loudly at that revelation. He brazenly tipped his flask into their drink cups laid out on their table and asked, "Who was the gossip on?"

"Claire Lyons," Alicia bit out. The irony was almost funny.

Massie clenched her hands into her fists, feeling the bite of her manicured nails against the inside of her palms. It helped her focus.

Kemp leered and lifted a shoulder. "Come on, you gotta admit she's an acquired taste."

"Yes, and apparently, everyone in our entire school needs to acquire some," Massie seethed. She lifted one of the ballots on the table and stared at Claire Lyon's name and then the ones next to hers. She had chosen Layne Abeley and _Becca Wilder_ , of all people, as her Court running mates.

Massie couldn't believe her eyes. What was wrong with the world? Was she suddenly in the twilight zone?

Massie quickly did the calculations in her own head. Analyzing people and understanding their motives was what she excelled at, so why wasn't it adding up? Had she underestimated everybody? She could understand the masses' vote for Claire. She was the new It Girl, a pretense crafted deliberately by the Pretty Committee themselves. Layne, she could probably reason out as well. Everybody loved a good underdog story. Layne was the definition, if there ever was one.

But _Becca Wilder_? She couldn't fathom it.

Just last week, she had been utterly destroyed. She hadn't even been back at school since the photo leak.

Who did Claire Lyons think she _was_?

"You aren't seriously going to let her win, right, Mass?" Kristen asked her in a low whisper. Anxiety was heavy in her tone.

Alicia, on the other hand, honestly couldn't believe that _Massie Block_ wouldn't be holding the title for Homecoming queen for the first time in years, and worse yet, that nobody in the Pretty Committee would be either. "No way am I losing that prize money just because some people have terrible taste," the dark haired girl stated bluntly.

Without even meaning to, Massie felt her lips quirk up. It was funny because Alicia was richer than all of them put together. Ten thousand dollars was nothing to any of them, with the exception of Kristen, who Massie had been planning on donating the money to her scholarship fund after being crowned anyway.

To Massie though, it was less about the prize money and more about the principle of it. The loss was a blow to all the girls at this table. It was a blow to _her_.

She had designed this entire Homecoming dance after Paris as reclamation of the worst summer of her life. Being crowned for something she worked hard to earn set against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower she worked hard to build was supposed to be her _comeback_. It was supposed to be her moment of triumph.

It was supposed to be a fuck you to everyone who looked ever down on her after being dumped.

It was supposed to be a prize for correctly conforming to society's ideal standards. She might not be Claire Lyons, but she wasn't Becca Wilder either.

And now, it was all _gone_. It wouldn't mean anything anymore if Claire and Becca won. It meant that the statement, the message she had been trying to send, was all wrong. It meant a repeat of exactly everything Massie Block was trying to change about her life.

Alicia leaned over towards them, interrupting Massie's increasingly frantic train of thoughts. "We should rig it," she conspired quietly enough that none of the boys across from them would hear.

"Why?" Kristen asked bitterly, fighting the urge to smash her champagne glass against the wall. She considered herself the real loser here. She was the only one of them that really needed that money. "Were you planning to use that money for the breast reduction surgery you need?"

"No," Alicia hissed, baring her teeth. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest. She had always been self-conscious of her breasts. "I wasn't talking about _me_ , but maybe it should be. I can donate the money to you for the bitch reduction surgery _you_ need."

"I vote we pull a _Carrie_ ," Dylan voiced loudly over their argument. She was a bit too drunk to grasp the concept of discretion.

"That doesn't mean what you think it means," Kristen snapped.

"Enough." Massie's voice was barely audible to _herself_ over the rising tide of nausea rushing through her, but the girls all snapped their mouths close at once at her tone. " _Enough_."

Massie sucked in a deep breath and gripped her chest. Her heart was suddenly going a mile a minute, and not in the good way. She realized she must be hitting the comedown stage. There was just no way she was having a panic attack in the middle of a ballroom in front of the entire school.

Fighting past the roaring of noise in her ears and the sudden eruption of a blinding headache, Massie brushed her curls over her shoulder. The room was suddenly too hot and she was getting the sweats. She stopped when she realized her hands were shaking. Everything was entirely out of her control, and now her own body wasn't even cooperating with her.

Coke.

She needed more cocaine.

Her high was the only way she could escape this horrible feeling.

Suddenly, Kemp was around their table and right there behind her. He smirked down again at all of them and placed his hands down on Massie's shoulders. Against her flushed skin, his touch felt invasive. It was all familiar, but it felt all wrong. She could barely fight down a twitch at his intimacy.

"Come on, baby," Kemp told her, guiding her up and out of her chair. Massie didn't even fight him as he led her away. He knew what she wanted and she knew what he wanted.

This was easy. This was familiar, but it felt awful.

Why did it feel awful?

Kemp pressed another flask into her hands, and Massie couldn't help herself. She barely remembered what happened last time, but she knew it had been bad. It had been _really_ bad. Still, she drank. The burn of bourbon sliding down her throat distracted her from that train of thought. The sound of the crowd and the fairy lights in front of her slowly blurred away as they headed down a deserted hallway.

Her lungs were on _fire_ , but it took her away from the burning in her heart, the empty ache in her stomach, and the stinging sight of Claire Lyons walking into the ballroom arm and arm with Derrick Harrington.

.

 _derrick_ ;

Derrick knew exactly what it meant walking into Homecoming with Claire Lyons on his arm.

And still, he did it. He wanted to say that it was the next step in his grand master plan, but the truth was that it hadn't been. Talking about his family did that to him sometimes. To be honest, just thinking about his home life situation could probably drive him to binge drinking, but this that was no still no excuse.

No. He had to be honest about this. It was more than that.

Shit, his first mistake was taking Claire words to heart. She was getting to his head.

As he led Claire across the elegantly decorated ballroom, following the path laid out by stupid fairy lights, he could acknowledge that he could probably still spin this into his favor. Massie words about dating Claire flashed through his mind. Monogamy wasn't his thing, but it didn't sound too bad if it was the next step into getting Claire Lyons into his bed. It was too late to back out now. The sweet smile on Claire's face after their public kiss cemented that too.

There was nothing different between how they had to be. It was just the fact of everybody knowing it now.

His mind flashed back to Massie, wondering about her reaction after what went on back at the house, and Derrick felt more conflicted than ever. Luckily, he didn't have enough time to think about it anymore. They had arrived at the center of the ballroom, right next to a massively constructed Eiffel Tower, where all the other Homecoming Court nominees were standing.

"Just on time," Kristen greeted, checking them off on her clipboard. Claire greeted Kristen with her usual charm, but Kristen didn't seem to have time, already moving onto the people behind them. Derrick rolled his eyes.

"Is everybody accounted for?" Dean Wiseman asked off to the side.

Kristen looked ready to ignore him too, but her ingrained respect for authority seemed to stop her. "Almost," she reported evenly, scanning the group and counting heads. "We're missing Massie."

Hearing his stepsister's name out loud again was just as jarring as hearing it in the car. It sent a jolt straight through his stomach. Derrick swallowed and forced himself not to think about what had happened between them.

He still felt conflicted.

He cast his eyes around the ballroom, but the dim lighting and the fucking fairy lights weren't helping. There was nothing to really focus on.

"Last we saw, she was with Kemp," Dylan reported dutifully, despite looking drunk already. How Dean Wiseman wasn't wising up was a _joke_. Claire was narrowing her eyes in suspicion, but at those words, Derrick's head snapped back towards their group.

"When did you last see her?" he couldn't help but ask.

He shot for casual, but probably missed by about two miles. Derrick distinctly remember straight up telling Massie he was done with her issues, but it seemed like it was a harder habit to actually break. Easier said than done.

He should have stayed away. He shouldn't have gone into her room, he shouldn't have thought with his dick instead of his brain, and he shouldn't have given into her. He should have let her walk out the door and let that be it. But he hadn't, and now he cleaning up after her _again_.

"Down the hall, to the right," Dylan slurred.

Claire was just opening her mouth—probably to out her to Dean Wiseman standing right there, but Derrick spoke up before she could, "I'll get her," he volunteered, before Alicia could as well. She might not have been too bad of a choice, but Massie would have probably murdered them all if anyone discovered this side to her. He turned and walked away without another word.

He was starting to think he was fucked in the head.

Derrick slammed the ballroom door shut behind him, drowning out the sounds of bass from the DJ and the laughter of inebriated high school students. The hallway was padded with thick carpet and completely empty.

Derrick was having a distinct flashback to the country club this summer.

Massie never knew when to fucking _quit_.

Red was turning his vision black. His hands involuntarily clenched. He could have drawn blood and not felt it at all through the sudden adrenaline rushing through him. His footsteps quickened down the hallway.

He found them in one of the event hall's unused conference rooms. Bourbon was seeping into his dress shoes from the floor and white powder was littered all over the mahogany conference table. The only thing different from last summer was that instead of instead of passed out and gushing blood, Massie was clearly still in the middle of a high.

And Kemp, instead of freaking the fuck out, was on top of her, kissing her neck.

Derrick gripped the back of his dress shirt and tugged him back so hard he almost slammed into the opposite wall. Kemp cursed loudly, but when he realized it was Derrick and saw the look on his face, he seemed to realize too.

"She's fucked up," Derrick gritted out through the swell of rage charging and churning inside him. It was telling him to fuck the consequences and beat the shit out of Kemp Hurley. He couldn't even imagine what would have happened if anybody but him came to find them.

Derrick grabbed him and stared him hard in the eyes. Kemp looked out of it too, and it was the probably the only thing that saved his life. If Kemp had been sober…

He didn't finish the thought. He pushed Kemp away from him in disgust.

"Shit," Kemp whispered, falling back into one of the office chairs and rubbing his face.

Massie chose that moment to lean over the table and vomit all over the floor.

"Shit," Kemp repeated, shooting out of his chair and out of range. He looked wracked with guilt, but Derrick knew it wouldn't last. Apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson from last time. "Shit, Derrick, I—"

"Dean Wiseman's looking for you," Derrick dismissed him, secretly vowing to deal with him later—when he wasn't needed for damage control. "Sober the fuck up."

"Shit, _shit_ —" Kemp kept repeating, looking completely lost.

"Go," Derrick snapped. It was the same exact shit. Derrick hated people who started shit and couldn't back it up. He almost didn't get the word out through the overwhelming desire to force Kemp to deal with the consequences of his actions, but Massie heaved again, and he gripped her by the arm before she could topple off the table. She groaned in protest. Kemp left and Derrick kicked the door shut after him. He turned back to his stepsister.

"My knight in shining armor," she slurred, sliding down to the ground. Her world was blurring and it seemed to be the most stable thing for her right now.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

Infuriating was too inaccurate of a description for her right now. Fucking _impossible_ was more fitting. Her dress was still off her shoulder, revealing that her lingerie matched her dress. Derrick kept his eyes on her face. Massie blinked up at him with red, lidded eyes and gave him a wicked smirk. "You know how I get when things don't go my way. It makes me _so_ horny," she simpered.

" _Jesus Christ_ , Massie!" He couldn't stop from shouting. Derrick barely restrained himself from physically shaking her. He hated her like this. Her smile more brittle than mischievous, more dejected than calculating. This wasn't the Massie Block he knew. Block didn't do this.

This wasn't one of their games. Derrick refused to play.

Was _everything_ a game to her? Were people just pieces for her to tease? Were the people around her just players on a chess board in her mind? Was life just a series of events she fought to control and ruin?

"You never call me Massie."

"What?" Derrick asked, missing what she said. He cast his eyes back over to her. His stepsister's pupils were dilated and her face was flushed. She looked sick and clammy, probably because she was breathing heavily to fight down her nausea. She didn't look at all ready to head back to the ballroom.

There was probably a perfect word for a situation like this.

Fucked.

Yeah, that was it.

"My head hurts," Massie whispered softly. She glanced up at him again, and looked ready to lie down. She was probably crashing now, because he didn't think he had ever seen her look so vulnerable, but Derrick couldn't bring himself to muster up sympathy for her anymore.

Push and pull. Push and pull.

Massie had it down to an art form.

"Yeah, well, you make my head hurt all the time," Derrick snapped. It was all heat and no fire though. For some impossibly stupid reason, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her while she was down. He grabbed her by the arms and tugged her to her feet.

At the sudden motion, Massie turned to the side and vomited all over the floor again. She'd probably feel better in a second when it was closer to being out of her system. This time though, he held her, brushing her hair away from her face and over her shoulder. He didn't think he'd ever seen Block like this before. She must have been high for a while for a down to be this bad. The whiskey probably hadn't helped.

"You're okay," he inexplicably said to her.

Massie stiffened. "I'm not her, Derrick," she rasped, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and tugging her dress back up over her shoulder. "I'm not Claire. I don't need to be babied."

Derrick stiffened too, but then he sighed. "You also don't need to be a bitch," he told her, but he didn't release her. Deep down, he knew this was just her inexplicable way of trying to save face. Instead, he brushed more strands of her dark brown hair from her face.

For a moment, Derrick almost thought Massie would push him away, but after a moment's hesitation, she leaned into his touch for balance.

Being around Massie Block was like walking through an emotional minefield. A real life game board where he discovered that whichever way he stepped next was a new risk, a new gamble. It was as exhilarating as it was _exhausting_. An unending game that he couldn't seem to escape, filled with frustration, second guessing, and the possible destruction of everything he loved.

With anybody else—with _Claire_ —it was simple. With Claire, it was _easy_.

Derrick still didn't know why he hadn't let her walk out the front door. He still didn't know why he had agreed, and he still didn't know why he had volunteered to get her, when deep down, he probably knew exactly what he'd be walking into.

And maybe he was starting to realize why he continued to play her games.

Maybe Derrick really _was_ fucked in the head.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **note3** : thank you thank you thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. you are the reason this story is still alive.  
>  **note4** : pls leave a note if you like. more coming soon! xx


	10. get me off of this; i need confidence in myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **note1** : it's been over one year since i last updated! the date was kind of what spurred me into writing again. it's been so long, but the clique is still so dear to my heart. here's another chapter. all three POVs for your reading pleasure.

.

get me off of this; i need confidence in myself

.

_massie_ ;

Massie woke the next day to the soft warmth of the morning sun drifting across her bedroom. She could only ever sleep in complete darkness, so it took a moment for her to realize that someone had forgotten to draw her curtains. Inez might also have opened them for her early in the morning, anticipating that she would have been up by now though, so she didn't begrudge her maid. Normally, Massie wouldn't have minded waking up to the sunlight, but today her skin already felt warm to the point of clammy.

Her lips felt chapped, her jaw ached, and her throat burned.

If she had any energy left, she would have wondered how she ended up back in her house, in her bed, but she didn't.

For hours, Massie lay exactly where she was, flat on her stomach, and watched the sun move across her bedroom floor until it reached her legs and traveled up her body.

She didn't make any moves to draw back her curtains so that she could go back to sleep, but neither did she make any moves to get up.

Her entire being felt numb.

She wondered for a moment how something that could bring her so high could bring her so down. Her stomach rumbled. Massie couldn't even  _remember_  the last time she ate, but the taste of bile lingering in her throat and the smell of alcohol lingering on her dress ruined whatever appetite she might have had.

Wanting to feel the sun on her back, Massie lifted her hand to brush her hair away, but her hand shook with the effort. For some reason, the sight of her frailty made her want to cry. She lowered her hand and clenched it into a fist slowly so she didn't have to see. The sight of her weakness triggered a twinge inside her chest.

Her memories were coming back to her, slowly.

She'd done it again.

Her memories of last night were punctuated with fleeting pictures, passing feelings.

The country club floor carpet pressed roughly against her face. The sensation of being shaken awake and the sight of Kemp's frantic eyes. The scent of blood and alcohol and bile up her nose. The feeling of a cold hard toilet against her face as Derrick tugged her hair back. The texture of Derrick's soccer jersey against her skin when he leaned over her in the tub. The feel of warm water bathing her skin, against her body, down her hair, on her face.

Massie squeezed her eyes shut. That hadn't happened last night. That was last summer.

Her memories were merging. It was all blurring.

Massie forced herself to focus on the present. On the now.

Only, right now, there was only the overwhelming sense of loss, of emptiness. She didn't know exactly what happened last night, but she did know that she was alone and that her head was bare. She hadn't accepted a crown.

She'd lost.

Massie pressed her face down hard against her pale down comforter, squeezing her eyes shut tight. She sucked in a breath of fluff—inhaling the faint scent of her own hairspray and the lavender of her maid's laundry soap—and choked midway. The numbness had fractured, only to be replaced with a sharp burning in her chest and a sting in her eyes.

Her moment of weakness could be forgiven. There was only so much a person could take.

The vibration of her phone on her bedside table buzzed across her self-pity party. Massie forced herself to sit up and pull herself together. Hating herself for giving in to her emotions and honestly a bit grateful for the interruption, Massie wiped her face and reached over for her phone. The screen read 'Liz Goldman'. She cleared her throat and picked up right before it went to voicemail.

"Hello?" she croaked. She cleared her throat again.

"Hey Massie," Liz's nasally voice breathed through her speaker.

"Hey," Massie forced herself to say back. She had no idea what this call could be about. Something must have happened last night for  _Liz_  of all people to be calling her. They might interact sometimes through the Council, but Massie knew Liz would probably have given up her proclaimed gymnastic skills before calling her voluntarily after what happened with her best friend, Becca Wilder.

"It's Dean Wiseman," Liz answered her unvoiced question.

Oh. Massie raked a hand across her mused hair and rubbed her throat, wishing for water. It wasn't that she was particularly worried, just exasperated. She didn't have the energy to deal with Dean Wiseman today. He was hopeless. He needed Massie to guide him through every single procedure and freaked out over any potential incidents. Massie was starting to get fed up having to hold his hand through everything. He asked for her almost every day.

"What's going on?" she asked, already dreading having to fix whatever problem had occurred while she was out of it last night.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Liz asked her impatiently.

Massie narrowed her eyes at her tone. No one spoke to her like that. Still, she couldn't deny that last night  _was_  a bit of a blur. But it would be a cold day in hell before she admitted anything of the sort to Liz.

"I remember a bit," she finally gritted out.

"Well, you missed the Homecoming announcements. You were supposed to organize the Court, present the crown to the winner, and be on hand for any incidents, but you weren't. Wiseman called your phone about fifteen times, but you never picked up."

Massie digested this for a moment before she realized that Liz was fishing for a response.

"So?" she finally snapped, completely fed up. The pounding in her head hadn't receded.

Realizing that Massie wasn't playing around, Liz hurried to finish. "He discovered that the punch had been spiked, that students were drinking, and basically blew it on stage." Massie froze, but Liz powered through this time. It seemed like she couldn't get the words out fast enough. "He received an anonymous tip that you were one of the students drinking."

" _What_?"

"He said that it was the only explanation as to how you could have been so irresponsible. He said that alcohol must have been the only explanation as to why you, as Student Body President, could have disrespected him and all of Westchester Prep like that."

Massie felt her jaw unhinge. There was absolutely no way Dean Wiseman would have said something like that about her.

"Since he's fixing your mistakes and consequently making his  _own_  decisions now," Liz snapped, obviously referring to Dean Wiseman's decision to remove Becca as student council president, which she correctly attributed to Massie's influence, "after last night's events, he's decided to crack down on the school's recreational drug and alcohol use. As a result of this, he can't possibly let what happened at Homecoming yesterday slide. He asked me to call you personally… to let you know that he's asking you to step down as Student Body president. Effective immediately."

An incredulous laugh bubbled out before Massie could stop it. "You can't be serious."

"Oh," Liz replied cruelly. "I am. I'm totally serious. He called me this morning and told me. He  _asked_  me to break the news to you."

This couldn't be happening. It was too early, too much, too fast. Massie couldn't bring herself to think of anything witty to say in response. Her entire life was falling apart. It seemed to be one thing after another. Again and again and  _again_.

Her chest was burning again. Massie fisted a hand over her heart, wondering if she was having another panic attack.

"You know, I would  _almost_  feel sorry for you," Liz continued through the phone. Masse was no longer listening. Her ears were ringing and her heart was in her throat and it was all she could do to keep it together again. God, how low had she sunk? Fighting for control in front of a LBR like Liz. "…If this wasn't almost a repeat of what happened to Becca. It's almost like karma. What comes around goes around, right, Massie?"

Liz's taunt snapped her out of it.

She took in a deep breath.

"No," she finally said. "This is nothing like what happened with Becca."

There was silence on the line. Liz must be wondering why she was so calm.

Because Massie wasn't going to just accept what society had to say about her. She wasn't going to accept her supposed lot in life, her  _condemnation_  with supposed dignity, and recede meekly from the spotlight to make it easier on everyone. She wasn't going to suck it up, give up, give in. Massie wasn't going to  _take it_ , on her knees, shamed.

No way.

There was no universe where Massie wasn't fighting her way up. No universe where Massie wasn't already on top.

She smirked. "I wasn't drinking last night."

"That's not what Dean Wiseman thinks," Liz finally replied, anxiety flickering in her tone.

As Liz's fear built, Massie felt hers recede. Her heart raced again, but in a completely different way. The way it always did before something big. Something built up and tore down with just a few words and a flick of her hair, with red lips and a flash of a smirk. She sat up a bit straighter, pulled herself together a bit more.

"Oh, we'll see about  _that_ ," Massie told her. She smiled wickedly. "Thanks for this call, Liz. As just the messenger, I'll cut you some slack. I know there's no way you could have turned down doing to dirty work for Wiseman, Being a follower is just in your nature. But as for being the  _rat_ , you'll be  _lucky_  with just a charge of libel from me."

Liz gasped. "I didn't—"

"Didn't you?" Massie interrupted carelessly.

" _No_ —I—" Liz stuttered in a rush. "I'm not a rat. I didn't say any— _I_  didn't tell Wiseman that you were drinking."

Hook. Line. Sinker. Even Liz knew she was done for if she was branded a nark.

"If not you, then who?" she asked.

"Claire Lyons," Liz practically shouted. She couldn't seem to shift the blame fast enough. She might have been willing to do Wiseman's dirty work, but she drew the line at taking the fall for something like this. Even she knew Massie's wrath was a dangerous thing. Massie would have smiled if her heart wasn't suddenly pounding a mile a minute. The tightness in her head became a hundred times more painful. " _Claire_  told Wiseman you must have been a few of the students drinking too, after—after he caught Dylan—"

Massie didn't even know why she was surprised. She fought past the anger building inside her like thunder, the heat rushing through her veins like fire, and tried to think calmly. She already had her next steps; she already knew what she had to do.

Massie stood up from bed slowly. She had gotten what she wanted and everything she needed. She was done wasting her time with Liz Goldman. It was best to let her fester in her growing terror anyway. Massie hit the end call button and tossed her phone back onto the bed.

She was done wallowing in dark thoughts and depressing self-pity. She was taking a shower to wash it all away.

.

_derrick_ ;

Derrick leaned back further in his seat on the terrace bench and took a long drag from the blunt in his hand. The courtyard terrace overlooked the house grounds, providing a view that could have almost relaxed him if he was in the right state of mind for it. He wasn't. Derrick exhaled and watched the haze of smoke obscure his view.

Homecoming week was finally over, but he wasn't looking forward to the shit show that Monday morning at school was going to be.

He resolved not to think about it at all until then. He took another hit.

Derrick choked on his exhale when the terrace doors slammed open, hitting the back wall with a bang.

His stepmother, Kendra Block, stood at the entrance to their backyard. Derrick's eyes watered from the smoke in his lungs and throat. He quickly placed his head down between his knees to try to hold in his coughs. Derrick choked again and sucked in a breath at the burning in his throat.

He had forgotten this feeling. He hadn't choked on a hit since he was a freshman. Derrick dropped the still lit blunt to the ground and kicked it down the extended balcony columns, hopefully into the cobbled path below and not the grass.

Fuck. What a waste.

His stepmother, Kendra Block, had the same sharp eyes as her daughter Massie, and an even crueler disposition.

"Derrick," she greeted when he finally looked up again.

Luckily, he was saved from responding when his stepmother continued, "There you are. Your father and I have been home almost an hour. Come in and greet us. Your father wants to see you in the study."

Derrick flinched at being reprimanded, and then fought the urge to scowl. Kendra wasn't his father's first companion since the death of his mother, but she  _was_  his first marriage since. Kendra was the only one who he didn't consider a complete bimbo. She came with her own fortune and she was the only one who was even close to his father's age. She was also the only one with a daughter in his grade, and the only one who moved in and completely transformed his childhood home.

She  _wasn't_  his mother though.

Derrick grunted in response. He got up from his chair casually and slowly slipped by her into the house without a real greeting to her. He felt a thrill in his stomach when he felt her glare burn into his retreating back at his blatant disrespect.

The temporary thrill in his stomach turned into an uncomfortable clench when he stopped at the doors to his father's study. Why hadn't his dad told him he was coming home today? More importantly, why hadn't Block?

He dismissed the thought of his stepsibling quickly. Fuck, he needed that blunt. He pushed open the study door without knocking.

His father was facing his computer screen, blatantly ignoring his open study door and his son standing in the doorway. Despite the fact that this was par the course, Derrick felt a flush crawl up his chest. His fingers were starting to tingle from the aborted hit he took. He stepped further into the room just to prove a point.

His father probably hadn't even been expecting him. It would just be like his stepmother to lie.

He stepped over to the bar in the corner and fixed up some drinks. He poured some Macallan and a splash of water into two glasses and approached his father.

At the presentation of drinks, Charles Harrington finally looked up. He didn't bother with a greeting either; he launched straight into the heart of the matter.

"What's this drama I'm reading about your Homecoming?" his father asked him, gesturing at the email the Headmaster must have sent out just this morning. Derrick sneered. That was quick.  _Of course_. It figures that something like this would come up the exact time his parents came home. Why would they choose Homecoming weekend of all weekends to arrive back? And of course, his father would pick  _tonight_  of all nights to pretend to start giving a shit about his life.

His father took a long swig of his scotch. Derrick watched him dispassionately. Apparently, he didn't see the irony.

"It's nothing," he tried to brush off, "a few students were drunk in front of Wiseman, so he pitched a fit."

The whole thing was so stupid, it was mind numbing. He doubted there was a night  _anywhere_  in Westchester where someone was drunk or high or—

"Apparently, the police found drugs as well," Charles cut in.

Derrick placed his drink down on his father's desk.

Suddenly, the situation was a lot more serious.

"Some students were discovered in possession," Charles told him, draining the rest of his drink and reaching over for Derrick's. Derrick stood frozen as his brain processed this. Discovered? The  _police_? "They're going to start mandatory drug testing at the Academy next week."

Derrick felt his stomach swoop.

"That's  _bullsh_ —"

Charles leveled a dark look at him. His father's earlier casual demeanor had faded and replaced with something that was not to be messed with. Derrick shut his mouth at the implied threat.

"I already sent an email agreeing with this course of action," his father told him, standing up and brushing off his suit. Derrick's mind absolutely boggled at the complete hypocrisy. His jaw almost dropped.

' _You've got to be fucking kidding me_.'

"I didn't think I'd have to warn you,  _again_ , to tread carefully."

Derrick burned red hot at the bullshit spewing from his father. He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw to hold himself back.

"Now, come," Charles told him from the doorway. "Let's get this meet and greet dinner over with."

Derrick willed his breathing to slow back down, as he wracked his brain for a reason to excuse himself from the torture of another night of masquerading as a pretend-family with his father, stepmother, and stepsister, who would undoubtedly be sucked into the same boat as him by her harpy of a mother. With everything that was currently going on in his life, he'd probably kill someone. Maybe himself.

"Meet and greet?" he asked.

"The new girlfriend you're  _insisting_  we meet," Charles supplied as he headed down the hall.

Derrick whipped his head up.  _What the fuck?_

Derrick followed his father into the hallway, feeling a different kind of dread pooling in his stomach. If he hadn't been so off kilter, he would have picked up on all of this a lot sooner. He should have known something like this was coming. It was probably the exact reason Block hadn't told him their parents were coming home today.

Derrick gripped the stair banister and looked down their extended balcony to the foyer, confirming his suspicions.

His stomach clenched uncomfortably again. It was Claire, standing at his estate entrance, shyly handing her coat off to Kendra's maid, Inez.

Derrick gnashed his teeth together.

_Massie_. This was Block's doing. He just knew it.

At the same moment the realization hit him, Claire looked up and met his eyes. Her surprise at seeing him widened her bright blue eyes and stretched her pink lips into a slow smile.

Everything about Claire Lyons was warm—from her pale pink dress, to her light blonde hair, to her sweet smile.

Just looking at her softened his anger.

The door to his stepsister's bedroom opened and Derrick cut his eyes away from Claire to Massie from down the hall. She had come out at the sound of the doorbell, and was mirroring his position, observing Claire. From her position though, she remained unseen by anyone but him.

Massie's amber eyes met his and held them.

Derrick could physically feel the unspoken words charging the air around them, settling heavy inside his gut. His heart warred with indecision when she stepped closer. Wearing an all black dinner dresses that hugged every curve, Derrick was once again reminded that his stepsister was the polar opposite of Claire Lyons.

As if to highlight herself as the perfect counterpoint to her, Massie was all harsh lines, red lips, and sharp eyes.

If Claire was warm, then Massie could only be cold.

Ice Queen personified.

It was Derrick's first time seeing her since Homecoming. Their time apart had not been long enough. Neither had the distance and the out-of-sight, out-of-mind mentality he had been trying to adopt curbed any of his anger at her. It all came slamming back into him without a moment's notice.

If Derrick were sane, he would  _hate_  her.

Instead, he was half hard just meeting her eyes.

"You did this," he accused, gripping the banister tightly.

"Maybe," Massie demurred, gliding her hand along the same banister on the opposite end. "You've never had a steady girlfriend before. It's a momentous occasion. So, enthusiasm, Harrington! I know it's in there somewhere. Find it and try it out."

Massie walked down the stairs slowly, apparently intent on making a grand entrance. He followed her.

"Oh, I'm  _ecstatic_ ," he snarled, following closely behind her heels, "for everything to come crashing down around you. I hope you know that you're playing with fire, and if I burn, you burn with me."

Massie raised a skeptical brow at his words.

Oh, but he meant them.

She had  _no idea_  how much he meant them.

Derrick exhaled through his nose slowly. There was no use stewing over something that he couldn't help. What was the point in stressing over something he couldn't control? None of this was anything he couldn't handle. One day at a time; one thing at a time.

The muscles in his body slowly relaxed and he huffed a laugh. "I figured you hated her guts, but to subject her to dinner with our parents?" That was fucked up, even for her. He wouldn't have done that to his own worst enemy.

Massie flashed him a wry grin over her shoulder. If he hadn't known better, he'd have said she looked almost regretful. But he did. He  _knew_  Block. Nothing curbed her when she was like this. At any perceived slight, she returned it tenfold. She wasn't satisfied until all her rivals were ruined, crushed, and buried so deep there was no hope of climbing back out of the hole that was Westchester's high society.

She was  _never_  satisfied.

He used to like that about her. Block was relentless; she never gave up. She wasn't afraid to call anyone out on their shit and never let anyone get away with demeaning her. She gave as good as she got. There was no situation she couldn't handle; nothing she couldn't take care of.

Block thought she was fearless, and in many ways, she was.

But in some ways, she wasn't.

"Like I said," Massie tilted her head at him with a slow smile. "A special occasion. Don't you want our parents to meet your girlfriend?"

"It's not that special. I've had girlfriends before," Derrick corrected her.

"Never like Claire Lyons, you haven't," Massie shot back. Derrick couldn't tell if she was excited or bitter about it. Knowing Block, it could even have been both. "When have you ever dated exclusively? Taken a girl to Homecoming? To meet your  _parents_?"

Derrick narrowed his eyes. That was all organized by her.

He reached over and nudged her chin. "I guess you're right. It can't really be helped. Who really  _needs_  to date when you can just cut straight to the win? What's the  _point_  when girls are so  _easy_  to please… before you even have to please them?"

"Disgusting," Massie snapped, but her eyes were twinkling like she was trying hard not to laugh. She stopped before reaching the bottom step and smiled at Claire with that same practiced good-girl smile she used on their teachers, on their parents, on the school. He hated that smile.

Claire smiled back.

"Careful," he told her as he passed her. "You're included in that category."

Massie crossed her arms over her chest and widened her eyes at him. If Claire wasn't watching their interactions like a hawk and trying to listen in, she would have been glaring. "We dated in  _middle school_ ," she snapped under her breath.

He grinned deviously. "I didn't mean  _that_  category. I think we both know which one you fall under."

Derrick knew he hit his mark when there was a deadened silence from Massie. Derrick stepped around his stepsister and reached out to Claire. Maybe he could convince her to skip the dinner completely. No one deserved to be subjected to the torture that was their family dinners.

.

_claire_ ;

Massie and Derrick's home was a literal mansion. Claire could say that with absolute certainty from just standing in their front foyer, but of course, like everything else is Westchester, it was all substance, no soul.

She'd seen most of their house the last time she was here. It was all the same. No family pictures, no family mementos. There was nothing to indicate that the Harringtons or the Blocks spent any time in the house together, only recently dusted antiques that probably haven't been touched by any of them in years. Nothing to indicate a real living breathing, close-knit family lived here.

Suddenly, with an agonizing ache, she yearned for her own home back in Florida. She missed her father and her brother so much it was a physical hurt deep in her chest.

Derrick's warm brown eyes were the only thing holding her ashore.

"Derrick," she breathed when he came down the stairs and swept her up into a hug. "Hi."

"Hi," he grinned back. His smile had a bit of a bite to it, but Claire was slowly realizing that he got like this sometimes. His home life, his parents, and his stepsister were all sensitive topics that twisted his smile from joyful to sardonic and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

She was standing at the heart of everything that made Derrick uncomfortable.

She let Derrick put his arm around her and lead her into a sitting room.

"Okay," he said, once they were secluded enough. "What did she say to get you to come tonight?"

Claire took a seat on one of the chaise lounges and tucked her hair behind her ears. She knew exactly who he was referring to, but she couldn't resist the urge. "Who?" she asked, even though she knew perfectly well.

" _Block_ ," Derrick stressed.

Massie. Of course he was talking about  _Massie_. Claire felt a flush of something unidentifiable crawl over her. Massie Block seemed to be tied to Claire in every conceivable way. There was no escaping her. Claire was standing under her roof. Claire was holding her stepbrother's hand. Claire was barely on equal footing with her even as Council President. Massie Block was also all anyone could talk about, the Council, the Board, her peers, Dean Wiseman.

It was implied that she was probably one of the many students drinking at Homecoming, but she was still somehow Student Body President.

Claire couldn't understand.

"Oh. Massie?" Claire pretended to suddenly realize. "Nothing really. She just told me your family was finally back in town and extended me an invitation to dinner." She paused for a moment, wondering if she should say more. "She mentioned that your parents really wanted to meet me."

"Of course she did," Derrick muttered under his breath. At her confused look, Derrick shot up from his seat. He took his hands in hers and squeezed. He had a feverish gleam in his eyes. "Let's get out of here."

"You mean—leave?" she asked. "Right now?"

"And miss the first dinner we'd be having as a family since the beginning of summer?" a voice cut in from the entrance to the sitting room. Derrick jerked in surprise. Claire wasn't surprised; this was Massie's house too. At the brunette's words though, Claire felt her stomach clench. That couldn't be true, could it?

How could Derrick consider leaving, even for a moment?

A moment later, Derrick's parents were sweeping into the sitting room.

"You must be Claire," Derrick's stepmother greeted, leaning in for a quick air kiss. "I'm Kendra and this is Charles. It's so wonderful to meet you. Dinner should be ready any moment now. Should we all head to the dining room?"

"What will you be having, Claire?" Charles asked from the bar where he had started mixing the drinks for them all.

"Oh, I'll just have a water," she tried to answer, but Kendra was already graciously herding them all out of the room. The main dining room was as grand as Claire expected. A too long table, distantly spaced, with dinner already prepared and laid out. Inez, who had received Claire earlier, had placed starters and soup out for them all.

Derrick had a pinched look on his face. Claire brushed her hand against his and beamed encouragingly at him. The look on his face lightened and he smiled back. Derrick pulled out her chair for her and she slid in. She couldn't read his mind and had no clue why he seemed so apprehensive. Maybe he didn't want her to meet his family? She almost offered to leave, before she remembered that she was the guest of honor. But she knew the moment she offered to go, Derrick would come too.

There was no way she was going to deprive him of time with his family after such a long time apart. She had trouble understanding his dilemma. She would have given anything to be sitting together with her family again.

Claire launched into easy greetings with Massie, who despite her instinctual feelings, she got along well with. She enjoyed her warm bisque soup and worried absentmindedly about Derrick.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, when the arrival of Derrick's father with the drinks drew attention away from her. "You look really—" Claire cut herself off. How did he look? Uncomfortable? Anxious? Disturbed?

She couldn't tell because he had that mask on again. The one she hated.

"Yeah," he agreed, his mind to mouth filter on autopilot. "This fucked up family is what's wrong."

Her fingers tightened on his arm. "Derrick," she pleaded desperately.

He slid his arm from hers and grabbed the drink his father handed him. Claire watched uneasily as he chugged the alcohol. Her stomach swooped at the easy way he drained the beverage. Charles had given her alcohol too. She set the glass down on the table and didn't touch it.

Inez arrived with the main course, and Charles, Kendra, and Massie launched into discussion about their summer vacation. Claire couldn't believe that they hadn't caught up on the summer vacation talks when it was almost approaching late fall. Derrick had the same impassioned face throughout all of dinner. He and Massie updated their parents briefly on school and by the time the main course was almost done, everyone finally turned their attention to Claire.

"So Claire, where was your family from again?" Kendra asked.

"Orlando, Florida," Claire answered dutifully. "My mother and I only just moved to Westchester recently."

Charles cleared his throat loudly, chugging down his drink. He had barely touched his dinner and was flushed red from the alcohol. He gestured for Inez, who was standing nearby, for a refill. Suddenly, Derrick's face changed from impassioned to very, very tired. Across from her, Massie took a small sip of her drink.

"That's different!" Kendra turned to them with a sharp smile. "I haven't heard that one before. How are you liking Westchester so far?"

"It's very… different." Claire answered diplomatically. Massie smiled like she knew exactly what Claire meant with her ambiguous answer.

"And Westchester Preparatory Academy?" Kendra prompted. "Charles and I both graduated from there. We're very proud alumni. Have you seen the new wing in the Harrington building?"

Claire's throat itched for a drink, but she didn't reach for hers. She cleared her throat. "I actually haven't yet. Derrick never mentioned it." She cast a look at him, wondering why he never mentioned the close ties he had with the school.

Derrick reached over and took her hand under the table. Claire's heart lightened a bit at his unspoken support.

"I very much enjoy Westchester Prep," she told the table, "but I also notice a lot of things that can be improved. I'm just really glad that I have the opportunity to be able to implement and put into place those new changes."

This caught Charles' attention. "You're the new Student Council President I've been reading about?"

Claire nodded shyly.

Charles cut his eyes to Derrick sharply. Kendra cleared her throat and Massie's glass clinked when she placed it back down on the table. Claire wondered at the byplay.

" _Good_ ," Derrick's father finally said. "I hope you know what you're doing, boy. I can only hope that Claire will be a good mitigator for you after—"

Derrick finally broke. His fork clattered loudly on his plate when he dropped it. " _Jesus_ ," he cried.

Claire burned in her seat. With both confusion and curiosity.

"Charles, please," Kendra finally interjected, a few seconds too late. The table had already descended into unbearably uncomfortable silence. Massie had turned ashen and Derrick was fuming.

"No offense meant, Claire," Charles finally tried to clarify after prompting from his wife. Casting another look at his son, Charles couldn't seem to help continuing, "I only meant that there are certain things that are bound to happen twice and knowing my son's personality, I don't have much reason to believe–"

"Charles," Massie cut in, saving them all from Charles' drunken tirade. Claire was eternally grateful. "Regardless of all that, I'm sure that you didn't mean to cast aspersions on Claire's character. Claire's a great Student Council president. In fact, she's the one that  _proposed_  the idea of mandatory drug testing. We're implementing it Tuesday morning."

Claire didn't miss the fact that Massie only stood up for her. Massie never once looked in Derrick's direction, but then neither once did Derrick look in hers.

Inez set another round of drinks down at the table for them. Charles still hadn't touched his dinner, but already there were four empty glasses in front of him. Underneath the dining room table, Claire laced her fingers through Derrick's.

"Drug testing is exactly what the Academy needs, if only there was a chance in hell my son will pass," Charles announced. Derrick's hand tightened over hers painfully. Charles took another chug of his drink and meet Claire's shocked eyes directly. "Luckily, he's dating you. My son has a lot on the line. We can't have any barriers standing in his way."

Her heart was suddenly in her throat. The entire evening was so surreal. She couldn't believe what her boyfriend's father was implying. Even Kendra or Massie didn't seem to know how to respond. Claire couldn't fathom their family dynamic.

Finally, Derrick stood up and pulled her up with him. Their hands were still interlocked.

"Where do you think you're going?" Charles asked in surprise. He looked at them completely poleaxed, as if they had just announced that they were getting married. Like, the entire affair hadn't been completely uncomfortable for everyone involved and he was surprised they were even considering leaving.

"I'm taking Claire home. She has a lot of do before school starts back up again," Derrick told them calmly. His eyes were tight, but his carefree smile was back in place. His stance and posture and tone was so casual, Claire almost questioned whether the last few hours actually happened.

Charles eyed them sharply again.

"Come right back home after. You have soccer practice tomorrow morning. You need to be on—"

"Oh, but what about dessert?" Kendra interrupted, tossing her cloth napkin down on her plate and making to stand up. Inez must have sensed her distress, because she hurried over to clear their plates. For the first time all night Massie seemed to slip from her calm demeanor, she rolled her eyes and reached over for her drink. They all knew this farce of a family dinner was over.

Claire's heart ached at the vision they all made. They were so divided, so different from her family.

She stood up and stepped closer so she was by her boyfriend's side.

"Kendra," Derrick said, still calm as storm. "Fuck dessert."

What Derrick really meant was fuck  _this_. Fuck dinner. Fuck this fake reunion. Fuck this family. Claire didn't swear, but in this one instance, she was in complete agreement with her boyfriend. They walked out of the dining room, past the sitting room, through the foyer, and out the front door together, their hands interlocked the entire way.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note2: 'yeah kendra, fuck this family!' me - shouting at my computer screen as i type. thanks for reading! please review if you like.


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